“That’s the devil of it,” replied Doggie, rubbing up his hair.
“Why the devil of it?” Oliver asked quickly.
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Doggie. “As you have once or twice observed, it’s a funny old war.”
He rose, went to the door.
“Where are you off to?” asked Oliver.
“I’m going to Denby Hall to take a look round.”
“Like me to come with you? We can borrow the two-seater.”
Doggie advanced a pace. “You’re an awfully good sort, Oliver,” he said, touched, “but would you mind—I feel rather a beast——”
“All right, you silly old ass,” cried Oliver cheerily. “You want, of course, to root about there by yourself. Go ahead.”
“If you’ll take a spin with me this afternoon, or to-morrow——” said Doggie in his sensitive way.