Frank had passed a tolerable night.  The Major had retired upstairs about ten o’clock, taking his socks with him, presumably to sleep in them, and Frank had heard him creaking about upstairs for a minute or two; there had followed two clumps as the boots were thrown off; a board suddenly spoke loudly; there was a little talking—­obviously the Major had awakened Gertie in order to make a remark or two—­and then silence.

Frank had not slept for half an hour; he was thinking, with some depression, of the dreary affair into which he had been initiated, of the Major, and of Gertie, for whom he was beginning to be sorry.  He did not suppose that the man actually bullied her; probably he had done this sufficiently for the present—­she was certainly very quiet and subdued—­or perhaps she really admired him, and thought it rather magnificent to travel about with an ex-officer.  Anyhow, it was rather deplorable....

* * * * *

When he awoke next morning, the depression was on him still; and it was not lifted by the apparition of Gertie on which he opened his eyes from his corner, in an amazingly dirty petticoat, bare-armed, with her hair in a thick untidy pig-tail, trying to blow the fire into warmth again.

Frank jumped up—­he was in his trousers and shirt.

“Let me do that,” he said.

“I’ll do it,” said Gertie passionlessly.

* * * * *

The Major came down ten minutes later, considerably the worse for his night’s rest.  Yesterday he had had a day’s beard on him; to-day he had two, and there was a silvery sort of growth in the stubble that made it look wet.  His eyes, too, were red and sunken, and he began almost instantly to talk about a drink.  Frank stood it for a few minutes, then he understood and capitulated.

“I’ll stand you one,” he said, “if you’ll get me two packets of Cinderellas.”

“What’s the good of that?” said the Major.  “Pubs aren’t open yet.  It’s only just gone five.”

“You’ll have to wait, then,” said Frank shortly.

Presently the Major did begin to bully Gertie.  He asked her what the devil was the good of her if she couldn’t make a fire burn better than that.  He elbowed her out of the way and set to work at it himself.  She said nothing at all.  Yet there was not the faintest use in Frank’s interfering, and, indeed, there was nothing to interfere in.

Food, too, this morning, seemed disgusting; and again Frank learned the difference between a kind of game played by oneself and a reality in which two others joined.  There had been something almost pleasing about unrolling the food wrapped up at supper on the previous night, and eating it, with or without cooking, all alone; but there was something astonishingly unpleasant in observing sardines that were now common property lying in greasy newspaper, a lump of bread from which their hands tore pieces, and a tin bowl of warmish cocoa from which all must drink.  This last detail was a contribution on the part of Major and Mrs. Trustcott, and it would have been ungracious to refuse.  The Major, too, was sullen and resentful this morning, and growled at Gertie more than once.