"A grim, fair-haired Gorgon in glasses, who withered me with a look."
"The Acid Drop, surely."
"Probably. She certainly wasn't sweet."
"And she wouldn't let us go?" wailed Dona.
"No, poor old Baby Bunting. It's a rotten business, isn't it? No dragon in a fairy tale could have guarded the princess more closely. If I'd stayed any longer she'd have thrust talons into me."
"Oh, it's too bad! And you'd promised to take me to have tea at a café."
"So I did. I meant to give you a regular blow-out, so far as the rationing order would allow us. Look here, old sport, I'm ever so sorry. If I'd only foreseen this I'd have brought some cakes and sweets for you. I'm afraid I've nothing in my pockets except cigarettes and a cough lozenge. Cheer oh! It's Christmas holidays next week, and you'll be tucking into turkey before long."
"How do you like the camp, Larry?" asked Marjorie.
"First-rate. We have a wooden hut to sleep in. There are thirty of us; we each have three planks on trestles for a bed, and a palliasse to put on it at night, and a straw pillow. We get four blankets apiece. I make my own bed every night—double one blanket underneath, and roll the others round me, and have my greatcoat on top if I'm cold. Aunt Ellinor has lent me an air-cushion, and it's a great boon, because the straw pillow is as hard as a brick. We do route marches and trench-digging, and yesterday I was on scout duty, and three of us captured a sentry. If we'd been at the front, instead of only training, he'd have shot me certain."
"Do you have to learn to be a soldier?" asked Dona.