"Redmarley . . . it's a long way from here."
"What are you doing here, then?"
"I'm stopping with grannie and grandfather."
"And who is grandfather?"
"General Grantly," Ger answered promptly, smiling broadly. He always felt that his grandfather was a trump card anywhere, but in Woolwich most of all, "and he's got such a lot of medals, teeny ones, you know, like the big ones. I can read them," he added proudly. "I know them all. Grannie taught me."
"But why have you come to me? And why on earth do you come in among the wives and children of the Shop servants?"
"The door was open," Ger explained, "and I talked to the ear boy, and he said you were most awfully gentle and didn't hurt and hated if you had to—so I knew you were kind, and I'm awfully fond of kind people, so I wanted to see you—you're not cross, are you?" he asked anxiously.
"Um," again remarked the Myjor, and stared at Ger thoughtfully. "Well," he said at last, "since you are here, what is it you find so hard about reading?"
"It's so muddly," Ger complained, "nasty little letters and all so much alike."
"Exactly so," said the Myjor.