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Updated: June 2, 2025
Some of them, casual acquaintances, had nodded to him, waved, and gone on lowering the juice, a spectacle which made Freddie feel much as the wounded soldier would have felt if Sir Philip Sidney, instead of offering him the cup of water, had placed it to his own lips and drained it with a careless "Cheerio!"
"What's the matter?" "Nothing, nothing. . . . We've got visitors. You know Freddie Rooke, of course?" "How are you, Freddie, my boy?" "Cheerio!" said Freddie. "Pretty fit?" "And Miss Bryant," said Jill.
He tried to say a little of what was bursting for utterance, but they only laughed and fenced it off. They wished him 'Cheerio good-bye good luck; and he wondered if the whole realm of lived or written drama held any farewell more sublimely expressive of a great people enduring to the uttermost. His servant had a taxi-cab waiting for him.
"Bit thick!" agreed Archie, sympathetically. "Well, you'll probably be wanting to get to bed and all that sort of rot, so I may as well be popping, what! Cheerio!" A sudden gleam came into Miss Silverton's compelling eyes. "Wait!" "Eh?" "Wait! I've got an idea!" The wistful sadness had gone from her manner. She was bright and alert. "Sit down!" "Sit down?" "Sure.
Cheerio!" And he rang off. At that moment the gong sounded, and the genial host came tumbling downstairs like the delivery of a ton of coals. I always look back to that lunch with a sort of aching regret. It was the lunch of a lifetime, and I wasn't in a fit state to appreciate it.
"Oh, it probably won't take long till the strength is exhausted." "Says you. Well, Ive got half a story. Cheerio." I sighed. If only Miss Francis could control it. A fortune ... I walked home, trying to figure out what I was going to do tomorrow.
The huge, red-faced, grey-haired adjutant, best of ex-ranker officers, welcomed me on the farmhouse steps with a hard handshake and a bellowing "Cheerio!" followed by, "Now that you're back, I can go on leave."
What's up? It sounds as if there were dirty work at the cross-roads!" The voice of the assistant stage-manager was calling sharply excited, agitation in every syllable. "All the gentlemen of the chorus on the stage, please! Mr Goble wants all the chorus gentlemen on the stage!" "Well, cheerio for the present," said Freddie. "I suppose I'd better look into this." He made his way onto the stage.
While he was talking to the doctor the three nurses came out and got in, Julie not looking in his direction; then he climbed up next the driver of the first car. "Cheerio," said the P.M.O., and they were off. It was a dull day, and mists hung over the water-meadows by the Somme. For all that Peter enjoyed himself immensely.
Drop in at eleven, then. Cheerio till then." At eleven Peter found Harold signing papers. He glanced up. "Oh, sergeant," he said, "give Captain Graham a Movement Order Application Form, will you? Sit down, padre; there's a pen there." Peter wrestled with the form, which looked quite pretty when it was done. Harold endorsed it.
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