"Ask for what, old fellow?"
"For a bit of bread, if you've got any over. It's for the children!"
"Yes, of course we have! We never eat it all!"
As a matter of fact we seldom get enough bread. The loaves have to be sorted out, and, when the mouldy parts have been thrown away, the ration is usually more than halved. The old man walked by the side of the limber while the men searched in their bags.
"Here you are!"
Two loaves, almost fresh, were held out to him.
"With an onion and a good set of teeth they're eatable!"
"Thanks.... Thank you so much.... But I'm afraid you'll be short yourselves!"
"Oh, no! That's all right, old chap! Why, we get a wagonful of those every day!"
He made off, a loaf under each arm. I saw him hunch his shoulders and dry his eyes with the sleeve of his coat.