Yes, that would be the logical choice
o overwhelming love for “furr▓iners—Dutchmen, 206dagoes, and such like.▓” It would be out of keeping wit▓h his profession.That was why Pia, after po▓inting out to me the least public en●trance to the cavalry barracks, ▓on this Sunday noon, strolled● on down the street.The officers●’ dinner was already steaming w●hen I was welcomed by the six pr▓ivates of that day’s mess squad.▓By the time it had been
WHO WE ARE
served, I was len●ding the cooks able assistance in disposing o▓f the plentiful remnants, amid the stories● and laughter of a red-coats’ ●messroom.Even the bulging pocke▓ts with which I departed were less cheering tha▓n the last bellow from the barrack’s kitchen:●—“drop in to mess any day, Yan●k, till you land something.No bloody n▓eed to let your belly cave in while● there’s a khaki suit in Cai●ro.”
I was admitted to t●he library of the Reverend 癃— the following morning without▓ so much as a hinted challenge from Maghmo&oacu●te;d.The good rector was more distr●essed than surprised that I had not ▓yet found work.
“The difficulty is r●ight here,” he cried, as he made out a second ●Asile ticket.“No one will h●i