Would he then go home to his penitent wife?
But the gallant fellow, with the sturdy common-sense for which the British soldier is renowned, contrasted the clover in which he was living here with the aridness of Flowery End, and declined to budge.

High sentiment was one thing, snug lying was another.

Next time he came back, if she had re-established the home in its former comfort, he didn't say as how he wouldn't-- "But," she cried--and this bit I didn't tell Betty--"the next time you may come home dead!" "Then," replied Tufton, "let me see what a nice respectable coffin, with brass handles and lots of slap-up brass nails and a brass plate, you can get ready for me." Since the first interview, I informed Betty, there had been others daily--most decorous.

They were excellent friends.

Neither seemed to perceive anything absurd in the situation.