He sampled several pubs and at last found one to his fancy. There, in a small and crowded bar, he settled himself in a corner next the counter and ordered his drinks methodically. Nobody took much notice of him, for most of the men who had gathered there were regular customers who came in every night. The only person with whom he had anything in common was a lanky labourer with a small head and dark eyes who sat at a table opposite to him drinking beer. The evening wore on. Abner was no longer conscious of such details. The only things that detached themselves from the warm, rosy confusion were certain points of light, the stopper of a cut-glass decanter that flashed rays of ruby and emerald-green; a brooch of brilliants that the barmaid wore; a medal hanging on the watch-chain of the labourer opposite to him. Abner’s fancy played with these lights childishly fascinated. He heard not a word of the conversation that buzzed around him, keeping only enough of his senses to ask and pay for his drinks. It was nearly ten o’clock when another figure entered the bar: a man dressed in a military uniform with staring eyes and a red face that appeared to be transfixed by the skewer of a waxed moustache. He carried a silver-headed cane under his arm; his tunic fitted his back like a glove, and in his cap he wore a raffish bunch of ribbons. He shook hands with the barmaid, swept the room with a curious glance and settled down with his drink at the elbow of the lanky labourer. He spoke so loudly, and with such an accent of gentility that his voice could be heard above the rumour of the bar. He slapped his neighbour on the back. ‘Out of work?’ he said. ‘There’s no need for any one to be out of work in these days. I know the kind of work you chaps get, and damn me if I can see how you put up with it. Now, what have you been earning on the farm? Fifteen shilling a week? I guessed as much. And ten hours’ work a day. That’s a fine life for a man! That’s a damned fine life! I know what it is, my boy. I’ve had some of it. But that was many years ago. I had the sense to join the army, the good old Fifty-third, and I’ve lived the life of a gentleman ever since. That’s what you ought to do. Take the King’s shilling! You don’t know what you’re missing. Travel? See the world? I can tell you I’ve seen things you wouldn’t credit. India . . . Egypt . . . Cyprus. That’s a fine place now. You should see the women in Cyprus! Hey? Women!’ He broke into an obscene laugh. The last word echoed late in Abner’s brain. ‘Women!’ he heard himself mumble. ‘Curse the lot of them! That’s what I say.’ The sergeant turned to him, delighted to have dragged another person into the conversation. The old hands nudged each other and smiled.