Paul. Not here, monsieur.
Fred. Please yourself. Smoke your own. Them black things are no use to me. It's a rum country yours, old son. Light beer and black tobacco. But you fight on it all right. Oh yes, you fight all right. 'Ere, 'ave a piece of chocolate to keep the cold out. My missus sent me that.
Paul [accepting]. Merci. I hope madame is well.
Fred. Eh? Who's madame? Oh, you mean old Sally. She's all right. In bed. That's where she is. And I'm here. But I could do with a bit of a snooze myself. Come on, let's do a doss together.
Paul. A doss?
Fred. Yus. Wait a bit. I speak French when I'm 'appy. Je vais dormir. Vous likewise dormir.
Paul. I did not come to sleep, monsieur. I came to watch.
Fred. Watch? What do you want to watch for here? No Germans here.
Paul. C'est la nuit de Noël, monsieur. They say the statues come to life on Christmas Eve, and I am watching here to see if Jeanne will breathe and move and speak to a piou-piou from Domremy.
Fred. You know, old son, you could have scared me once with a tale like that. But not to-day. I've been seeing life lately. If old Nelson got down off his perch, and I met him walking in Trafalgar Square, I'd just salute and think no more about it. You can't raise my hair now.