that latitude, simultaneous as Jules and me was ong route for Waterloo to rejoin our respective ships—or Navies I should say. Jules was a permissionaire, which meant being on leaf, same as me, from a French cassowary-cruiser at Portsmouth. A party of her trusty and well-beloved petty officers 'ad been seeing London, chaperoned by the R.C. chaplain. Jules 'ad detached himself from the squadron and was cruisin' on his own when I joined him, in company of copious lady-friends. But, mark you, your Mr. Leggatt drew the line at the girls. Loud and long he drew it.'
'I'm glad of that,' I said.
'You may be. He adopted the puristical formation from the first. "Yes," he said, when we was annealing him at—but you wouldn't know the pub—"I am going to Southampton," he says, "and I'll stretch a point to go via Portsmouth; but" says he, "seeing what sort of one hell of a time invariably trarnspires when we cruise together, Mr. Pyecroft, I do not feel myself justified towards my generous and long-suffering employer in takin' on that kind of ballast as well." I assure you he considered your interests.'
'And the girls?' I asked.
'Oh, I left that to Jules. I'm a monogomite by nature. So we embarked strictly ong garçong. But I should tell you, in case he didn't, that your Mr. Leggatt's care for your interests 'ad•extended to sheathing the car in matting and gunny-bags to preserve her paint-work. She was all swathed up like an I-talian baby.'
'He is careful about his paint-work,' I said.
