"My husband," said Fifi.
He came in, stood for a moment, and gazed awkwardly at the two soldiers. Bubb stared open-mouthed at the man, Bowdy contracted his eyebrows and rubbed one eye with a miry finger, then the other.
"Bon soir, m'soo," said Bubb. "Ye're damned like a mate as we 'ad, old Fitz."
"I'm not surprised at that, Spudhole," said the man, coming forward and gripping both the men's hands and shaking them as if they were pump handles. "Not a bit surprised, for I am ole Fitz."
"But ye're dead," said Bubb.
"Almost had been ... but luck was with me," said Fitzgerald, still pump-handling. "And you. I heard you two were killed, Bowdy and Bubb ... I never expected.... It's damned strange what does happen.... We've no end of things to talk about.... Fifi, get a meal ready, the best bottle of wine ... we have much to say.... It's all gushing out.... God! it's good to see you two here."
Fitzgerald sat down, crossed his legs, felt in his pockets and brought out a packet of English cigarettes.
"Have a fag, Bubb—Bowdy," he said, laughing boyishly. "I've left England, but I can't resist these.... Oh! damn it!... Isn't it good to see you two here.... Old Snogger.... I know, I saw it in the press. Thorley, too, and Flanagan.... We'll go into the corner and have a talk.... We won't be disturbed and rations will be ready in no time. I'm excited, Bowdy. Bubb, I'm off my head. I'm so glad, so damned glad that I could give you a punch right on the tip of your nose.... But you'll not understand the feelings which give rise to a manifestation of gladness such as that, Spudhole."
Bubb laughed.
"Blimey! Ye're just the same ole Fitz, same as ever," he said.