"Fall out and strip. Next man." While the next is taking his stand the presiding M.O. has been making a note, and does not look up before saying "Well, what's the matter with _you_--besides rheumatism?" "No rheumatism, sir. And nothing else." The voice is as stiff as it dares. The presiding M.O. seems taken aback. Why, here is a fellow not playing up to him! Making a nasty break in the long line of cases that fed his darling cynicism so well! Flat burglary as ever was committed. The second member of the Board comes to life and begins in a tone that savours of dissatisfaction: "Well, you're the first man----" "I'm an N.C.O., sir." The young lance-sergeant's voice is again about as stiff as is safe. Quite safe, though, this time. For the presiding M.O. is a Regular. Verbal points of military correctitude are the law and the prophets to him. He cannot be wholly sorry when junior colleagues, temporary commissioners, slip up on even the least of these shreds of orange-peel. Like Susan Nipper, he knows his place--"me being a permanency"--and thinks that "temporaries" ought to know theirs. So he amends the outsider's false start to: "You're the first N.C.O. or man who has come before us this morning and not said he had rheumatism." The sergeant, whom I have known for some days as a choleric body, holds his tongue, having special reasons just now not to risk a court-martial. "Well," the president snaps as if in resentment of this self-control, "what _is_ the matter with you?" "Fit as can be, sir." "What are you doing down here, then, away from your unit?" "Obeying orders of Medical Board, sir. No. 8 General Hospital, December 8." "Not sorry, either, I daresay," the president mutters, wobbling back towards his first line of approach to the business. "Not very keen to go back up the line, sergeant, eh?" "It's all I want, sir, thank you." The sergeant puts powerful brakes on his tongue and says only that. But he has sadly disconcerted the faculty. A major with twenty years' service has cast himself for the fine sombre part of recording angel to note all the cowardice and mendacity that he can. And here is a minor actor forgetting his part and putting everything out. From where I am keeping a wooden face near the door I see opposition arising in the heart of the outraged psychologist beyond the table.