"'We don't wear 'em in our battalion,' I says. 'For heving's sake let me go. There's a chap over there trying to pinch my wardrobe.'
"It was no use. They held me tight, notwithstandin' me struggles, till the Toreador disappeared from view over the bridge.
"'That's done it. I'll go quietly,' I groans to the M.P.'s in despair. 'That's Chris Jones's five francs gone west, and nuthen else matters.'"...
"Well," said Chris Jones, "what then?"
"The rest you knows," said Chippo plaintively, "exceptin' that later my clothes was mysteriously dumped at th' billet with the pockets empty. But I think the distressing circumstances are such as warrants me in arsking fer the loan of another five francs."
"They would be," said Chris Jones, fumbling with his wallet, "only I happened to be the Toreador myself. But you can have the same old five francs back, an' be 'as you were'!"
"CAN I 'AVE THE AFTERNOON OFF TO SEE A BLOKE ABAHT A JOB FER MY MISSIS?"
"YOU'LL BE BACK IN THE MORNING, I SUPPOSE?"