"She never answered the verse you sent from Givenchy, I suppose," I remarked.
"It's not that——"
"Did she answer your letter saying she reciprocated your sentiments?" I asked.
"Reshiperate your grandmother, Pat!" roared Bill. "Nark that language, I say. Speak that I can understand you. Wait a minute till I reshiperate that," he suddenly exclaimed pressing a charge into his rifle magazine and curving over the parapet. He sent five shots in the direction from which he supposed the sniper who had been potting at us all day, was firing. Then he returned to his argument.
"You've seen that bird at the farm in Mazingarbe?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied. "Pryor said that her ankles were abnormally thick."
"Pryor's a fool," Bill exclaimed.
"But they really looked thick——"
"You're a bigger fool than 'im!"
"I didn't know you had fallen in love with the girl," I said "How did it happen?"