I've always told Leonard not to touch it.
"They don't give Colonels and V.C.s tinned lobster at Boulogne," I answered cheerfully.

"He's living now on the fat of the land." "Let us hope so," she sighed dubiously.

"It's no use my sending out things for him, as they always go wrong.

Some time ago I sent him three brace of grouse and three brace of partridges.

He didn't acknowledge them for weeks, and then he said they were most handy things to kill Germans with, but were an expensive form of ammunition.