"Were you trained as a soldier?"
"No, sir."
"How long have you been in the Army?"
"Only a few weeks, sir."
"And yet they made you a lieutenant?" and the suggestion of a smile passed his lips—a smile that was almost a sneer.
"You may know, sir," said Bob, "that in England we have what is called an 'Officers Training Corps'; men who join that corps do not necessarily go into the Army, but they join it so that in time of need officers may be forthcoming. When I was at school at Clifton, I joined the Officers' Training Corps, and qualified. That accounts for what would seem a rapid promotion."
"I see; and you come from what is called a good family in England, I suppose?"
"I can claim to have that honour, sir," and again the lonely figure was silent, and appeared to be reexamining the papers before him. His face was still in the shade, but, as far as Bob could judge, he appeared to be thinking deeply. "Who is he, and what does he want with me, I wonder?" he reflected. "I am nobody; why have I been treated in this wonderful fashion?"
"You Englishmen think you are winning in this war, I suppose?"
Again the words came suddenly, and still in the same, almost light, weak voice.