He put
his hand in his pocket. It was there all right. Kilburn. Twelve o'clock.
Yes, he was fairly up against it. Not, as he hastened to assure himself,
that he objected.... Not at all.... He had always been a patriot, and
always would be. He'd love to have a smack at the Huns. He'd give them what
for.... He wished he'd been a bit younger--that's what he wished. If he'd
been a bit younger he'd have gone like a shot. That's what he'd have
done--he'd have gone like a shot. No fetching him--if he'd been a bit
younger. But a chap at thirty-eight ... well....
Here was the "Golden Crown." Yes, he thought he'd better have "just one."
It would pull him together and give the doctors a chance. He ought to give
them a chance whatever the consequence to himself. A whisky-and-soda would
just put him "in the pink."
There, that was better. Now he could face anything. Now for Kilburn. How
should he go? It was two miles at least ... a good two miles. There was No.
16--he could take that. And there was the Tube--he could take that.
Pages:
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136