"Yes, General. Didn't report to you on arrival because I thought it would be quite tea time and I didn't want to disturb"
"Right!" General Crandall tipped back in his swivel chair and appraised his new officer with satisfaction. "Everything quiet on the upper Nile? Germans not tinkering with the Mullah yet to start insurrection or anything like that?"
"Right as a trivet, sir," Woodhouse answered promptly. "Of course we're anticipating some such move by the enemy—agents working in from Erythrea—holy war of a sort, perhaps, but I think our people have things well in hand."
"And at Wady Haifa, your former commander" The general hesitated.
"Major Bronson-Webb, sir," Woodhouse was quick to supply, but not without a sharp glance at the older man.
"Yes—yes; Bronson-Webb—knew him in Rangoon in the late nineties—mighty decent chap and a good executive. He's standing the sun, I warrant."
Captain Woodhouse accepted the cigarette from the general's extended case.
