VIII
IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS
II
SCENE. A dug-out in a wood somewhere in Flanders. Officers at tea.
HANCOCK. Damned glad to be out of that infernal firing trench, anyway. (A dull report is heard in the distance.) There goes another torpedo! Wonder who's copt it this time!
SMITH. For Christ's sake talk about something else!
HANCOCK (ignoring him). Are we coming back to the same trenches, sir?
CAPTAIN DODD. 'Spect so.