They had been sitting there
for some minutes, divided by the iron bars necessary to the morals of
the neighbourhood, while Mr. Lavender cudgelled his brains for an easy
and natural method of approach, before Blink supplied the necessary
avenue by taking her stand before a soldier and looking up into his eye.
"Lord!" said the one thus accosted, "what a fyce! Look at her moustache!
Well, cocky, 'oo are you starin' at?"
"My dog," said Mr. Lavender, perceiving his chance, "has an eye for the
strange and beautiful.
"Wow said the soldier, whose face was bandaged, she'll get it 'ere,
won't she?"
Encouraged by the smiles of the soldier and his comrades, Mr. Lavender
went on in the most natural voice he could assume.
"I'm sure you appreciate, my friends, the enormous importance of your
own futures?"
The three soldiers, whose faces were all bandaged, looked as surprised
as they could between them, and did not answer. Mr. Lavender went on,
dropping unconsciously into the diction of the article he had been
reading: "We are now at the turning-point of the ways, and not a moment
is to be lost in impressing on the disabled man the paramount necessity
of becoming again the captain of his soul. He who was a hero in the
field must again lead us in those qualities of enterprise and endurance
which have made him the admiration of the world.
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