“Hands down at your side!” he barked. “You’re speaking to an officer. Address him as ‘sir!’”
Blackburn tossed the eye-report on the top of his desk, leisurely removed his spectacles, and then calmly nodded at the sergeant who was standing stiffly nearby.
“That’s all, sergeant!” he said, indifferently, with a slight nod toward Mauney.
“Very good, sir,” bawled the sergeant, clicking his metal-plated heels together and saluting. Then, seizing Mauney by the arm, he led him toward the door.
“You can’t join—may as well go home,” he said, opening the door.
“But I never had any trouble with my eyes,” Mauney argued, as the sergeant shoved him out into the big room of the Armouries.
“Don’t matter. You’re unfit!”
Bang! The door closed in his face.