"No, no, not that——" I say excitedly. I am not equal to such overwhelming refinement.
"When you have been lying out there in the trenches, surely we can wash a sheet," she goes on.
I look at her, she is young and crisp, spotless and neat, like everything here; a man cannot realize that it isn't for officers only, and feels himself strange and in some way even alarmed.
All the same, the woman is a tormentor, she is going to force me to say it. "It is only——" I try again, surely she must know what I mean.
"What is it then?"
"Because of the lice," I bawl out at last.
She laughs. "Well, they must have a good day for once, too."
Now I don't care any more. I scramble into bed and pull up the covers.
A hand gropes over the bed-cover. The sergeant-major. He goes off with the cigars.
An hour later we notice that we are moving.