English," said the Colonel, turning graciously to the major domo. "Here, you've been such a sportsman I'll read you the indictment. The description's quite flattering. Eugene F. Connolly, commissioned first lieutenant th Infantry.—I'm afraid I have no right to the name of Cointreau. I chose it because it's my favourite liqueur. It smells like orange blossoms.—Cited for gallantry—here, we can skip that—Regimental interpreter . . . . . five foot eleven, 170 pounds, birthmark—Come, that's too intimate—curly auburn hair, blue eyes, athletic and agile . . . . escaped from Rehabilitation Hospital suffering from shell-shock, psychoneurotic hysteria and dementia jocosa—devilish pedantic, these Freudian terminologies, Romsteck—obsessional fantasies regarding the League of Nations . . . . not be misled by gentlemanly manner and humorous conduct of the patient . . . mentally irresponsible, pathological case of great severity.—Think of their pursuing a man half way across Europe because he's got dementia jocosa."
"That's what the world's come to, sir,"
