No More Learning

She wants England, and The Butcha would be all
the better for it. I'm going to chuck. You don't understand.

Capt. M. (Hotly. ) I understand this! --One hundred and thirty-seven new
horse to be licked into shape somehow before Luck comes round again; a
hairy-heeled draft who'll give more trouble than the horses; a camp next
cold weather for a certainty; ourselves the first on the roster; the
Russian shindy ready to come to a head at five minutes' notice, and you,
the best of us all, backing out of it all! Think a little, Gaddy. You
won't do it.

Capt. G. Hang it, a man has some duties toward his family, I suppose.

Capt. M.
I remember a man, though, who told me, the night after
Amdheran, when we were picketed under Jagai, and he'd left his sword--by
the way, did you ever pay Ranken for that sword? --in an Utmanzai's
head--that man told me that he'd stick by me and the Pinks as long as
he lived. I don't blame him for not sticking by me--I'm not much of a
man--but I do blame him for not sticking by the Pink Hussars.

Capt. G. (Uneasily. ) We were little more than boys then. Can't you see,
Jack, how things stand? 'Tisn't as if we were serving for our bread.
We've all of us, more or less, got the filthy lucre. I'm luckier than
some, perhaps. There's no call for me to serve on.

Capt. M. None in the world for you or for us, except the Regimental. If
you don't choose to answer to that, of course--

Capt.