"I'm nineteen."
"You look older," remarked Ned.
"Most people think I'm older," replied the lad proudly.
"You're not a native."
"No. I'm from the west of England."
"Which county?"
"Devon."
"My father's Devon," said Ned, at which the poor lad looked up eagerly, as though in Ned he recognised an old friend.
"That's strange, isn't it? How you meet people!" he remarked.
"I've never been there, you know," explained Ned. "Fact is I don't think it would be well for me to go. If all my old dad used to say is true I'd soon get shipped out."