At this moment a great wave of khaki burst into the room and swept to the counter, clamouring for attention. On the crest of it came Percy's friends in mufti, and once, across the tumult, his voice reached my ears. "... quite decided...." he was saying loftily, "some infantry regiment or other just seems...." and he was jostled away in the centre of an admiring group.
Involuntarily I looked across at Private Penny.
One eye met mine from behind an upturned mug, and the lid fell and rose again, once, rapidly; he too had heard.
"A Council of War in the Desert.
"British Officers are here seen holding a 'bow-wow.'"—Western Weekly News.
Very natural. In the desert most days are "dog-days."
Colonel (on a round of inspection, during prolonged pause in manœuvres). "And what is the disposition of your men, Sergeant?"
Sergeant. "Fed-up, Sir!"