"Thank Heaven."
"You seem glad."
"Good Lord! I should think so. Aren't you glad it's all over?"
"I don't quite know," said Andrew, smiling wistfully.
"Well, I am," declared Arbuthnot. "It was a beastly mess that had to be cleared up, and now it's done as far as my little responsibility is concerned. I'm delighted. I want to get back to my wife and family and lead the life of a human being. War's a dog's life. It has nothing to recommend it. It's as stupid and senseless as a typhoon." He laughed. "What are you doing here?"
Andrew waved a hand. "Putting in time."
"So am I. Till my boat sails. I thought before I left I'd look at a merrier end of France. By Gosh! They're a happy crowd"--he pointed to the packed mass on board the ancient tub of the Compagnie Générale Transatlantique.
"You share their feelings," said Andrew.
Arbuthnot glanced at him keenly.
"I heard they made you a Brigadier. Yes? And you've chucked it?"