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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Sergeant," said Miss Willmot, "I want to speak to your prisoner." Sergeant O'Rorke scratched his ear doubtfully. Miss Willmot had no right to see the prisoner. He had no right to open the door of the cell for her. They had hammered some respect for discipline into Sergeant O'Rorke when he served in the Irish Guards. But they had not hammered the Irish nature altogether out of him.
"That's a pity now," said O'Rorke; "but sure the Major would never have said no if you'd have asked him." He fitted the key into the lock and flung open the door of the cell. "Prisoner, 'tention," he said. Miss Willmot entered the small square room, lit by a single electric light. It was entirely bare of all furniture, save a single rug, which lay rolled up in a corner.
Later on, not even Miss Willmot had time to be thoughtful. There was a pause in the festivities for an hour or two after dinner. The men smoked, slept, or kicked at a football with spasmodic fits of energy. Then the canteen was opened. Miss Willmot's great cake was cut The men passed in a long file in front of the counter. Miss Willmot handed each man a slice of cake.
"If they'll only follow the receipt I gave them " said Miss Willmot. "If," said Digby. "But those cooks are rotters." "Anyhow," said the Major, "there'll be a decent dinner. Roast beef, plum pudding, oranges, and then all the things you have for them in the canteen. They'll not do badly, not at all badly." He rubbed his hands together and smiled with benevolent satisfaction.
Come along, Miss Willmot." The call came from behind the counter. Miss Nelly Davis stood there, a tall, fair girl in a long blue overall. "I've made toast and buttered it, and Mr. Digby's waiting." "Good evening, miss, and a happy Christmas to you," said Bates. "If there's a happy Christmas going these times at all," said Sergeant O'Rorke, "it's yourself deserves it."
The chair was placed on a table which was inclined to wobble, because one of its legs was half an inch shorter than the other three. Sergeant O'Rorke, leaning on the table, rested most of his weight on the seat of the chair, thereby balancing Bates and preventing an upset. Miss Willmot sat on the corner of the table, so that it wobbled very little.
Every one even the sergeant-major had to listen to scraps read out from Tommy's letters, written in trenches or in billets. When Tommy was reported wounded, Miss Willmot had a bad day of it with an almost hysterical Nelly Davis. When the wound turned out to be nothing worse than a hole in the calf of the leg, made by a machine-gun bullet, Miss Nelly cried from sheer relief.
"Memorandum of an agreement made this day between William Tailer & Co., with James White, that we, the said Tailer & Co., do allow him the said James White twenty dollars pr. month as long as the said White is in their service at Crown Point as Clark. "William Tailer & Co. "Test: Geo. Willmot. "Crown Point, July 1st, 1762." James White's papers, now in possession of a gentleman in St.
All the same, he doesn't look it." "Well?" said Digby, when the Major left. "I can't do anything," said Miss Willmot "In a case of this kind there's nothing to be done." But Miss Willmot made up a little parcel before she left the canteen. There were cigarettes in it, and chocolate, and a couple of mince pies, and a large slice of cake, and some biscuits.
Now he was a fellow-worker in the Camp. His waterproof hung dripping behind the kitchen door. Drops of rain ran down his gaiters. He was trying to dry the knees of his breeches before the stove. Miss Willmot greeted him warmly. "Terrific night," he said; "rain coming down in buckets. Water running round the camp in rivers. I say, Miss Davis, you'll have to get out another cup.
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