“Then—why?”
“Why didn’t we clap you back in gaol again? Well, maybe we should have. I decided instead to have you watched. I wanted to find out your game.”
“I haven’t any game,” said Gerry miserably.
“So it was beginning to seem,” agreed Stark. “What are you? Tired of fighting? A deserter?”
“I—I suppose so,” said Gerry. “I never meant to be a soldier. But after I got in trouble at home, it seemed the best way.”
Stark cleared his throat. “You got a father?” he asked.
“A father? Yes, sir.”
“At home in England?”
“Yes.”
“How do you think he’d feel if he knew you was behaving so?”