"My opinion, the blighters have shot and burnt themselves into a state o' mind; bloomin' delusion o' grandeur, that's what.

Wildest of 'em will rush us to-night, once--maybe twice.

We stave 'em off, say: that case, they'll settle down to starve us, right and proper." "Siege," assented Heywood.
"Siege, like you read about." The captain lay flat again.

"Wish a man could smoke up here." Heywood laughed, and turned his head:-- "How much do you know about sieges, old chap ?" "Nothing," Rudolph confessed.
"Nor I, worse luck.

Outside of school--_testudine facia,_ that sort of thing.