Colin: You’re engaged to Frankie?
John: Before I went to France. The daughter of my father’s partner; both families delighted; and they’ve all taken it up at the point where it was left off as if it was just the same; it isn’t, nothing’s just the same ... for one thing when I was engaged I was innocent ... quite ... one learnt more than soldiering in France.
Colin: I don’t know why you should put that down to the war—it happens to some of us even in peace time.
John: It complicates things.
Colin: How?
John: In the old days Frankie and I used to go about together a lot—like any respectably engaged couple.
Colin: Yes?
John: I used to take her to the theatre, and straight back to her house afterwards; her mother couldn’t sleep unless she knew Frankie was in; and I always said good night to her on her doorstep with a kiss—quite a nice one, but perfectly respectable.
Colin: Yes.
John: That was all. I don’t say I never wanted any more. However, I didn’t expect any more; I didn’t know any more, and I was quite ready to go on like that till we were married.