“Sorry! Mother’s often told me I didn’t know my strength. Now, here’s a curious thing. This Major of ours--it’s all comin’ back to me--was a high-up divorce-court lawyer; an’ Mosse, our Captain, was Number One o’ Mosse’s Private Detective Agency. You’ve heard of it? ’Wives watched while you wait, an’ so on. Well, these two ’ad been registerin’ together, so to speak, in the Civil line for years on end, but hadn’t ever met till the War. Consequently, at Mess their talk was mostly about famous cases they’d been mixed up in. ’Ammick told the Law-courts’ end o’ the business, an’ all what had been left out of the pleadin’s; an’ Mosse ’ad the actual facts concernin’ the errin’ parties--in hotels an’ so on. I’ve heard better talk in our Mess than ever before or since. It comes o’ the Gunners bein’ a scientific corps.” “That be damned!” said Anthony. “If anythin’ ’appens to ’em they’ve got it all down in a book. There’s no book when your lorry dies on you in the ’Oly Land. _That’s_ brains.” “Well, _then_,” Humberstall continued, “come on this secret society business that I started tellin’ you about. When those two--’Ammick an’ Mosse--’ad finished about their matrimonial relations--and mind you, they weren’t radishes--they seldom or ever repeated--they’d begin, as often as not, on this Secret Society woman I was tellin’ you of--this Jane. She was the only woman I ever ’eard ’em say a good word for. ’Cordin’ to them Jane was a none-such. _I_ didn’t know then she was a Society. ’Fact is, I only ’ung out ’arf an ear in their direction at first, on account of bein’ under instruction for mess-duty to this Macklin man. What drew _my_ attention to her was a new Lieutenant joinin’ up. We called ’im ‘Gander’ on account of his profeel, which was the identical bird. ’E’d been a nactuary--workin’ out ’ow long civilians ’ad to live. Neither ’Ammick nor Mosse wasted words on ’im at Mess. They went on talking as usual, an’ in due time, _as_ usual, they got back to Jane. Gander cocks one of his big chilblainy ears an’ cracks his cold finger-joints. ‘By God! Jane?’ says ’e. ‘Yes, Jane,’ says ’Ammick pretty short an’ senior. ‘Praise ’Eaven!’ says Gander. ‘It was “Bubbly” where I’ve come from down the line.’ (Some damn review or other, I expect.) Well, neither ’Ammick nor Mosse was easy-mouthed, or for that matter mealy-mouthed; but no sooner ’ad Gander passed that remark than they both shook ’ands with the young squirt across the table an’ called for the port back again. It _was_ a password, all right! Then they went at it about Jane--all three, regardless of rank. That made me listen. Presently, I ’eard ’Ammick say----” “’Arf a mo’,” Anthony cut in. “But what was _you_ doin’ in Mess?”