At this moment Sir Harry and Mr. Beedle came up the platform. Mr. Beedle was telling Sir Harry about the latest letter he had received from his prisoner-of-war son, and Sir Harry was giving a kind, heartfelt, sympathetic attention that was balm to Mr. Beedle’s spirit.
“Good morning, sir,” said Captain Hooper jauntily. “Are you off to the gay metropolis like me? Take my tip, and it’s worth having, if you want a good lunch go to the Poubelle in Hentzau Street. It’s run by Les Free Frogs and there’s a spot of pre-war Dubonnet if you ask Mademersell Rose at the bar.”
Sir Harry had hardly ever been deliberately rude in his life, but undoubtedly he would have snubbed Captain Hooper in a way even that thick-skinned officer would feel, had not Mr. Beedle, with the tact that is given only to the
