“We got here, George,” said my uncle, ending a long pause. “Didn’t I say?”
“Say!—when?” I asked.
“In that hole in the To’nem Court Road, eh? It’s been a Straight Square Fight, and here we are!”
I nodded.
“‘Member me telling you—Tono-Bungay?.... Well.... I’d just that afternoon thought of it!”
“I’ve fancied at times;” I admitted.
“It’s a great world, George, nowadays, with a fair chance for every one who lays hold of things. The career ouvert to the Talons—eh? Tono-Bungay. Think of it! It’s a great world and a growing world, and I’m glad we’re in it—and getting a pull. We’re getting big people, George. Things come to us. Eh? This Palestine thing.”...
He meditated for a time and Zzzzed softly. Then he became still.
His theme was taken up by a cricket in the grass until he himself was
