Hugh looked down on his immaculate companion curiously. How could a man, with hair graying around the temples and growing thin on the crown, nurse memories of love? It seemed absurd. But the face regarding him so steadily was a strong one. An idea suddenly occurred to the boy.
“Were you in the big shindy?”
“Yes.”
“What were you?”
“Major of infantry.”
“Get any bumps?”
“Yes, I achieved a little limp. Didn’t you notice it?”
“I hated the officers,” remarked Hugh.
“Will you come to-night?”