"No blurry fear," said the Cockney. "I'd drown myself 'fore I'd go back through Gorre like this. I'm not a girl in a revue. I'm a soldier, not a hactress. Will one o' you run back and get a pair o' trousers and a shirt for me?"
"No."
"No-o!"
"Callin' yerselves mates!" shrieked Bubb. Then his voice became coaxing. "Look 'ere, Flan, you go back and get me even a shirt; or Bowdy.... Any of you. Be pals."
"Who stood by and let the ants run over our clothes?" asked Flanagan.
"Bubb," Bowdy replied. "Our pal, Spudhole."
"That was a joke," said Bubb, "but this is past a joke. It's 'ell 'avin' no clothes."
"But you wouldn't wear clothes with ants running over them, would you?" asked Bowdy.
"I must go on in front," said Flanagan. "I'll ask Emilie to come down and have a look at you. She's up to any kind of devilment, that same girl."
"Flan-a-gan," said Bubb in a slow voice, hoarse with decision, "if you'd do a thing like that, I'd cut yer blurry froat." Then he stooped down, picked up a pebble and flung it into the water.