'Oh, my, it'll be the death o' me,' she panted. 'Now, come on, Mr.
Trevorrow, play fair. Play fair, I say, or I s'll put the cards down.'
'Play fair! Why who's played unfair?' ejaculated Mr. Trevorrow. 'Do you
mean t'accuse me, as I haven't played fair, Mrs. Nankervis?'
'I do. I say it, and I mean it. Haven't you got the queen of spades? Now,
come on, no dodging round me. I know you've got that queen, as well as I
know my name's Alice.'
'Well--if your name's Alice, you'll have to have it--'
'Ay, now--what did I say? Did you ever see such a man? My word, but your
missus must be easy took in, by the looks of things.'
And off she went into peals of laughter. She was interrupted by the
entrance of four men in khaki, a short, stumpy sergeant of middle age, a
young corporal, and two young privates. The woman leaned back in her
chair.
'Oh, my!' she cried. 'If there isn't the boys back: looking perished, I
believe--'
'Perished, Ma!' exclaimed the sergeant. 'Not yet.'
'Near enough,' said a young private, uncouthly.
The woman got up.
'I'm sure you are, my dears. You'll be wanting your suppers, I'll be
bound.'
'We could do with 'em.'
'Let's have a wet first,' said the sergeant.
The woman bustled about getting the drinks. The soldiers moved to the
fire, spreading out their hands.
'Have your suppers in here, will you?' she said. 'Or in the kitchen?'
'Let's have it here,' said the sergeant.
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