“I ought to be over there now,” said Oliver, “but I just escaped shell-shock and I was sent home for two weeks.”
“My crowd is at the Somme,” said Doggie.
“You’re well out of it, old chap,” laughed Oliver.
For the first time in his life Doggie began really to like Oliver. Oliver stood in his eyes in a new light, that of the typical officer, trusted and beloved by his men, and Doggie’s heart went out to him.
After some further talk, the men separated to dress for dinner.
“You’ve got the green room, Marmaduke,” said Peggy. “The one with the Chippendale furniture you used to covet so much.”
“I haven’t got much to change into,” laughed Doggie, looking down at his uniform.
“You’ll find Peddle up there waiting for you.”
When Doggie entered the green room, he found Peddle, who welcomed him with tears of joy and a display of all the luxuries of the toilet and adornment which Doggie had left behind at home. There were pots of [v]pomade and face cream, and nail polish; bottles of hair-wash and tooth-wash; half a dozen gleaming razors; the array of brushes and combs and [v]manicure set in [v]tortoise-shell with his crest in silver; bottles of scent; the purple silk dressing-gown; a soft-fronted shirt fitted with ruby and diamond sleeve-links; the dinner jacket and suit laid out on the glass-topped table, with tie and handkerchief; the silk socks, the glossy pumps.
“My, Peddle!” cried Doggie, scratching his closely-cropped head. “What’s all this?”