“In the leg; it's about all right, though.”
“I ain't. I won't never be all right. The doctor says I'm all right now, but I know I'm not, the lyin' fool.”
“Some time, wasn't it?”
“I'll be damned to hell if I do it again. I can't sleep at night thinkin' of the shape of the Fritzies' helmets. Have you ever thought that there was somethin' about the shape of them goddam helmets...?”
“Ain't they just or'nary shapes?” asked Fuselli, half turning round. “I seen 'em in the movies.” He laughed apologetically.
“Listen to the rookie, Tub, he's seen 'em in the movies!” said the man with the nervous twitch in his voice, laughing a croaking little laugh. “How long you been in this country, buddy?”
“Two days.”
“Well, we only been here two months, ain't we, Tub?”
“Four months; you're forgettin', kid.”
The “Y” man turned his set smile on Fuselli while he filled his tin cup up with chocolate.