Major Barkison toyed with the thought of himself as Wellington. The thought was pleasant and he examined it from all angles. He dreamed for several moments.
“I understand,” said Martin at last, “that they are going to rotate to the States all men who’ve been here two years or more.”
“What? Oh, yes, that’s our policy. It’s a little hard to do, naturally. There aren’t many replacements so far. How long have you been here?”
“Fourteen months. I’ve got another ten months to go.”
“I know how you feel. How long has Mr Evans been here?”
“Over three years, but then he’s practically a native. He lived in Seward. He probably likes Alaska.”
“He must, to stay here that long. For some people, it’s a good place.”
“He used to fish in these waters.”
“Really? He seems to want to go back now. I can’t say I blame him.”
“Neither do I.”