“Me to help with the wounded,” said Pen huskily. “So you thought me long?”
“Course I did. But the wounded—are there many?”
“Heaps,” said Pen. “But don’t talk so loudly.”
“Poor chaps,” said Punch, “they can’t hear what we say. How are things going? There, they are at it again.”
“I think the French are giving ground,” said Pen in a whisper.
“Hooray!”
“Hush!”
“What, mayn’t I say hooray?”
“No, you mayn’t. I have picked up a little since I went away. I fancy our men have been coming on to try and take this village, but I couldn’t make out much for the smoke; and, besides, I have been with that surgeon nearly all the time.”
“Yes,” said Punch. “Well, will they do it?”