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Updated: June 18, 2025
Doggie's stoical indifference to the winning of twenty pounds, a year's army pay, gave him cause for great wonder. As Doggie showed similar equanimity when he lost, Taffy put him down as a born sportsman. He began to admire him tremendously. This friendship with Taffy is worth special record, for it was indirectly the cause of a little revolution in Doggie's regimental life.
Captain Willoughby, who had interrogated Jeanne with regard to the restored packet, and, on Doggie's return, had informed him with a friendly smile that they were a damned sight too busy then to worry about defaulters of the likes of him, but that he was going to be court-martialled and shot as soon as peace was declared, when they would have time to think of serious matters Captain Willoughby had gone to Blighty with a leg so mauled that never would he command again a company in the field.
Oliver strode hurriedly away. "I'm sorry I said that about the regiment, mate. I didn't mean it," said Doggie. Chipmunk looked uncertainly into Doggie's eyes for what Doggie felt to be a very long time. Chipmunk's dull brain was slowly realizing the situation. The man opposite to him was his master's cousin. When he had last seen him, he had no title to be called a man at all.
He could tell little Wienerwurst's bark anywhere. Somehow it was different from any doggie's in the world. There he was, frisking and scampering and biting at the other dogs' tails, just in fun. "Run run run run runrunrun!" And that is just what they did, right into the circus ring where the man in the red cap held out big hoops of paper above the dogs' heads.
For all the time that Peggy had been running on, eager to convince him that his imputation of aloofness from the war was undeserved, the voice of one who, knowing its splendours and its terrors, had pierced to the heart of its mysteries, ran in his ears. "Leur gaieté fait peur." The X-rays showed the tiniest splinter of bone in Doggie's thigh.
He whistled himself into quite a useful popularity. "We're all very proud of you, Marmaduke," said the Dean. "I think you're just splendid," said Peggy. They were sitting in Doggie's rooms in Woburn Place, Doggie having been given his three days' leave before going to France. Once again Durdlebury had come to Doggie and not Doggie to Durdlebury.
The Tommy would have said "sir" very scrupulously, which on Doggie's part would have been an idiotic thing to do; but they would have got on famously together, bound by the freemasonry of fighting men who had cursed the same foe for the same reasons. So Oliver stood out before Doggie's eyes in a new light, that of the typical officer trusted and beloved by his men, and his heart went out to him.
Their place was in some degree taken, or rather usurped, for it was without Doggie's volition, by "Taffy" Jones, once clerk to a firm of outside bookmakers. As Doggie had never seen a racecourse, had never made a bet, and was entirely ignorant of the names even of famous Derby winners, Taffy regarded him as an astonishing freak worth the attention of a student of human nature.
How many litters?" "It's the finest collection of the kind in the world," replied Doggie stiffly, "and is worth several thousand pounds." Oliver heaved himself into a chair that was Doggie's impression of his method of sitting down a Sheraton chair with delicate arms and legs. "Forgive me," he said, "but you're such a funny devil." Doggie gaped. The conception of himself as a funny devil was new.
"Somebody has come to the wrong box, has she not? Somebody thought I would take her in, and be kind to her, and pet her, and give her your cream, did she not? But no one shall have my doggie's cream; no, that they shan't!" "Mrs. Cameron," said Flower, when these particularly clever and lucid remarks had continued for nearly an hour, "may I open the window of the carriage at this side?
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