Waller considered. "Something in the plumbing line?" he ventured.
"Not exactly," answered Montague, and muttered, "Duration of the
war--and six months after--with plebs like this!"
"I'm a carpenter by trade," vouchsafed Private Waller, and then emitted
a shout of delight. "I say," he cried; "blime, if it ain't the missus!"
In a few moments they reached a little Englishwoman, not much more than
a girl, who was guiding a baby-carriage containing a chubby little
youngster of some two years of age.
"'Ello, Bill!" she said. "'Ow's the army?"
"Great," said her husband; "but meet my pal, Private Montague.--Private
Montague, meet my old woman."
"Glad to know any friend of Bill's," said Mrs. Waller warmly.
Montague bowed. "Thank you," he said gravely. "You are giving up a lot
in letting your husband go to the war."
"You said I had to, Emily."