"Nothing is funny in war-time," said I.
"Either nothing or everything," said Marigold. He fussed methodically about the room, picked up an armful of clothes, and paused by the door, his hand on the switch.
"Anything more, sir?"
"Nothing, thank you, Marigold."
"Good-night, sir."
The room was in darkness. Marigold shut the door. I was alone.
What the deuce was the meaning of this waylaying of Boyce by Daniel Gedge?
CHAPTER VII
"Major Boyce has gone, sir," said Marigold, the next morning, as I was tapping my breakfast egg.