He got through at once by sheer weight of personality, down miles of corridors, into the presence of a quite intelligent, thin, dark person with scarlet tabs. That meant a superior staff affair: not dustbins. The dark man said to him at once: "Look here! What's the matter with the Command Depôts? You've been lecturing a lot of them. In economy. What are all these damn mutinies about? Is it the rotten old colonels in command?" Tietjens said amiably: "Look here! I'm not a beastly spy, you know? I've had hospitality from the rotten old colonels." The dark man said: "I daresay you have. But that's what you were sent round for. General Campion said you were the brainiest chap in his command. He's gone out now, worse luck. . . . What's the matter with the Command Depôts? Is it the men? Or is it the officers? You needn't mention names." Tietjens said: "Kind of Campion. It isn't the officers and it isn't the men. It's the foul system. You get men who think they've deserved well of their country--and they damn well have!--and you crop their heads. . . ." "That's the M.O.s." the dark man said. "They don't want lice." "If they prefer mutinies . . ." Tietjens said. "A man wants to walk with his girl and have a properly oiled quiff. They don't like being regarded as convicts. That's how they are regarded." The dark man said: "All right. Go on. Why don't you sit down?" "I'm a little in a hurry," Tietjens said. "I'm going out to-morrow and I've got a brother and people waiting below." The dark man said: "Oh, I'm sorry. . . . But damn. You're the sort of man we want at home. Do you want to go? We can, no doubt, get you stopped if you don't." Tietjens hesitated for a moment. "Yes!" he said eventually. "Yes, I want to go." For the moment he had felt temptation to stay. But it came into his discouraged mind that Mark had said that Sylvia was in love with him. It had been underneath his thoughts all the while: it had struck him at the time like a kick from the hind leg of a mule in his subliminal consciousness. It was the impossible complication. It might not be true; but, whether or no, the best thing for him was to go and get wiped out as soon as possible. He meant, nevertheless, fiercely, to have his night with the girl who was crying downstairs. . . . He heard in his ear, perfectly distinctly, the lines: "_The voice that never yet . . . Made answer to my word_ . . ." He said to himself: "That was what Sylvia wanted! I've got that much!" The dark man had said something. Tietjens repeated: "I'd take it very unkindly if you stopped my going . . . I want to go." The dark man said: "Some do. Some do not. I'll make a note of your name in case you come back . . . You won't mind going on with your cinder-sifting, if you do? . . . Get on with your story as quick as you can. And get what fun you can before you go. They say it's rotten out there. Damn awful! There's a hell of a strafe on. That's why they want all you."