Dormer went and rested.
The following day he felt no better and did not do much. He had the Sports well in hand, and there was no movement of troops. The day following that he felt queerer than ever, and jibbed at his breakfast. He went along to see the D.A.D.M.S., always a friend of his, who put a thermometer under his tongue, looked at it, shook it, looked at Dormer, gave him an aspirin, and advised him to go and lie down for a bit. On his way to his billet Dormer put his head into Q. office to tell the Sergeant-major where he was to be found if wanted. He was called by Colonel Vinyolles from the farther room. It was again full of people he considered (as rank counted for less than experience) to be his juniors. He could see something was “up.” They were all highly amused except Vinyolles.
“I say, Dormer, I consider you let me down on this.”
“What’s the trouble?”
“Trouble! I’ve got a nice chit back, in reply to my saying ‘the matter has attention.’ They say that any further delay is ‘inadmissible’ and that they will be obliged to carry the matter higher.”
“Let ’em!”
“Oh, that won’t do at all. The General has seen this, and he wants to know what you mean by it.”
“He ought to know by this time!”
“Captain Dormer!”
Of course he was wrong, but he felt rotten. It wasn’t Vinyolles’ fault. He pulled himself together.