"We kep' company, as you might say," continued the Optimist, "for—'ow long was we stationed there, Hathi?"
"Best part of a year," replied the Philosopher.
"So! Gawd, 'ow time moves along. I wouldn't 'a bin on-reasonable if the lil gal 'ad kep' 'er 'and in wi' one or two of the next smartest privates in the regiment...."
"Wot's that?" ejaculated the Pessimist, but the speaker took no notice.
"But s'welp me if she looked at another blighter the 'ole time."
"S'welp me if she didn't!" came from the Pessimist. "I tells yer I knows 'er."
"And I tells yer, yer never was able to tell one gal from another, out there," contradicted the Optimist.
"I'd know that one in my sleep, anyway," went on the Pessimist.
"That's how you probably know her best," put in the Philosopher, "it's a touchin' tale of a too-trustin' little 'eart, I don't think."
"Seein' as 'ow you're smokin' her fags..." began the Optimist.