Sweezy stood in the doorway listening.
"That," said Vox, "is the greatest compliment a man can have. Sweezy there has no more music in him than a horse; but see! we have woven the spell about him. I believe we do sing well together. What couldn't we do if we would practise together? Now I will keep this pledge for you, Downs, if you will promise to come every day at twelve and sing with me. We will lunch together, and I will see that you don't get a drop to drink."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I have engaged to go to work."
"Where?"
"Enlisted."
"What! Enlisted? To throw yourself away again?" Vox gripped the arms of Downs as if he were a prisoner. "Where have you enlisted?"
"In the street-sweeping brigade."
"Great guns!" said Vox.