"Morning," he said; he, too, was pale, but smiling. He turned aside to
speak to Grace.
I saw an A.S.C. man push through the crowd to Colonel Walters; he looked
very hot; in his hand he had a telegram.
The men were beginning to get into the train; a cheer, a very feeble
cheer that somehow seemed wet, came from beyond the barrier.
Walter Markham joined us, and another man, a cheery boy called Withers.
"I wish I was going too," Walter Markham said. "I applied for a
transfer months ago. I want to get into a Scotch regiment."