When is the contingent complement to leave? Armed for war, we have seen nothing but the office. It's not enough.
A change in our existence: the arrival of Lieutenant Roberty at Humes, and his appearance in our clan.
The other day, at muster, there was a rumour abroad that we were soon to have a new sub-lieutenant from Alsace. Here he is, in the centre of the square; of medium height, papier mâché appearance, very dark moustache, and the half-closed eyes of a myope. He wears red trousers and an extraordinary black coat, chimney-corner style, with a little gold lace at the sleeves. I look curiously at him, wondering where the deuce I can have seen that profile, so reminiscent of a tame jaguar.
A voice calls me; it is that of the new sub-lieutenant.
"Don't you recognize me?" ...
"No, mon lieutenant, and yet ... really, I cannot remember your name...."
"Roberty."
Raising my hands, I say—
"I beg your pardon, I have never seen you except in a dress suit."