“They went a long way back. Then I walked a bit, an’ there was a hospital-train fillin’ up, an’ one of the Sisters--a grey-headed one--ran at me wavin’ ’er red ’ands an’ sayin’ there wasn’t room for a louse in it. I was past carin’. But she went on talkin’ and talkin’ about the war, an’ her pa in Ladbroke Grove, an’ ’ow strange for ’er at ’er time of life to be doin’ this work with a lot o’ men, an’ next war, ’ow the nurses ’ud ’ave to wear khaki breeches on account o’ the mud, like the Land Girls; an’ that reminded ’er, she’d boil me an egg if she could lay ’ands on one, for she’d run a chicken-farm once. You never ’eard anythin’ like it--outside o’ Jane. It set me off laughin’ again. Then a woman with a nose an’ teeth on ’er, marched up. ‘What’s all this?’ she says. ‘What do you want?’ ‘Nothing,’ I says, ‘only make Miss Bates, there, stop talkin’ or I’ll die.’ ‘Miss Bates?’ she says. ‘What in ’Eaven’s name makes you call ’er that?’ ‘Because she is,’ I says. ‘D’you know what you’re sayin’?’ she says, an’ slings her bony arm round me to get me off the ground. ‘’Course I do,’ I says, ‘an’ if you knew Jane you’d know too.’ ‘That’s enough,’ says she. ‘You’re comin’ on this train if I have to kill a Brigadier for you,’ an’ she an’ an ord’ly fair hove me into the train, on to a stretcher close to the cookers. That beef-tea went down well! Then she shook ’ands with me an’ said I’d hit off Sister Molyneux in one, an’ then she pinched me an extra blanket. It was ’er own ’ospital pretty much. I expect she was the Lady Catherine de Burgh of the area. Well, an’ so, to cut a long story short, nothing further transpired.” “’Adn’t you ’ad enough by then?” asked Anthony. “I expect so. Otherwise, if the old Circus ’ad been carryin’ on, I might ’ave ’ad another turn with ’em before Armistice. Our B. S. M. was right. There never was a ’appier push. ’Ammick an’ Mosse an’ Gander an’ the B. S. M. an’ that pore little Macklin-man makin’ an’ passin’ an’ raisin’ me an’ gettin’ me on to the ’ospital train after ’e was dead, all for a couple of Bradburys. I lie awake nights still, reviewing matters. There never was a push to touch ours--never!” Anthony handed me back the Secretary’s Jewel resplendent. “Ah,” said he. “No denyin’ that Jane business was more useful to you than the Roman Eagles or the Star an’ Garter. ’Pity there wasn’t any of you Janeites in the ’Oly Land. _I_ never come across ’em.” “Well, as pore Macklin said, it’s a very select Society, an’ you’ve got to be a Janeite in your ’eart, or you won’t have any success. An’ yet he made _me_ a Janeite! I read all her six books now for pleasure ’tween times in the shop; an’ it brings it all back--down to the smell of the glue-paint on the screens. You take it from me, Brethren, there’s no one to touch Jane when you’re in a tight place. Gawd bless ’er, whoever she was.”