I wonder which." "I don't," said Crowther.
"You don't ?" Piers paused, glass in hand, looking at him expectantly.
"No, I don't." Crowther also raised his glass; he looked Piers straight in the eyes.

"Here's to the boys of England, Piers!" he said.

"They'll see to it that she comes through." Sir Beverley also drank, but with a distasteful air.

"You've a higher opinion of the young fools than I have," he remarked.
"I've made a study of the breed, sir," said Crowther.
The conversation drifted to indifferent matters, but Piers' interest remained keen.

It seemed that all his vitality had reawakened at the coming of this slow-speaking man who had looked so long upon the wide spaces of the earth that his vision seemed scarcely adaptable to lesser things.