“Well—if your name’s Alice, you’ll have to have it—”
“Ay, now—what did I say? Did you ever see such a man? My word, but your missus must be easy took in, by the looks of things.”
And off she went into peals of laughter. She was interrupted by the entrance of four men in khaki, a short, stumpy sergeant of middle age, a young corporal, and two young privates. The woman leaned back in her chair.
“Oh, my!” she cried. “If there isn’t the boys back: looking perished, I believe—”
“Perished, Ma!” exclaimed the sergeant. “Not yet.”
“Near enough,” said a young private, uncouthly.
The woman got up.
“I’m sure you are, my dears. You’ll be wanting your suppers, I’ll be bound.”
“We could do with ’em.”
“Let’s have a wet first,” said the sergeant.