"That, my boy, depends entirely upon the liver, as they say."
Young Dundas, who had just reined up level with them, interposed:
"My God, my God," he said, "how you chaps do love talking! Why, I once had a discussion myself at Oxford with one of those johnnies in a bowler
hat and ready-made tie who go round and make speeches in public squares on Saturday afternoons. I had stopped to listen to him on my way back from a bathe. He was cursing the aristocracy, the universities, and the world in general. Well, after about five minutes' talking, I went right up to him and said, 'Off with your coat, my friend; let's go into the matter thoroughly.'"
"And did you convince him, Dundas?"
"It wasn't very difficult, Messiou, because, honestly, I could use my left better than he could."
CHAPTER XV
DANSE MACABRE
"Magical dancing still goes on in Europe to-day."—Sir James Fraser.
"Doctor," said General Bramble, "this morning I received from London two new fox-trots for my gramophone."
Ever since the Armistice sent the Scottish Division into rest on the Norman coast, the Infant Dundas had been running a course of dancing-lessons at the mess, which were patronized by the most distinguished "red-hats."