Of him must it have been originally written
that adventures are for the adventurous. He meets them at every street
corner. For instance, he assists an old lady off a bus, and asks her if
he can be of any further help. She tells him that she wants to know the
way to Maddox the butcher's. Then comes the kind, triumphant smile; it
always comes first, followed by its explanation, 'I was there
yesterday!' This is the merest sample of the adventures that keep Mr.
Willings up to the mark.
Since the war broke out, his zest for life has become almost terrible.
He can scarcely lift a newspaper and read of a hero without remembering
that he knows some one of the name. The Soldiers' Rest he is connected
with was once a china emporium, and (mark my words), he had bought his
tea service at it. Such is life when you are in the thick of it.
Sometimes he feels that he is part of a gigantic spy drama. In the
course of his extraordinary comings and goings he meets with Great
Personages, of course, and is the confidential recipient of secret news.
Before imparting the news he does not, as you might expect, first smile
expansively; on the contrary, there comes over his face an awful
solemnity, which, however, means the same thing.
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