Grim followed them out.
"Rammy, old cock," said Jeremy, sprawling on the bed again and laughing, "don't look all that serious.

Bring back your brigadier and I'll kiss him on both cheeks while you hold him! But say; suppose that doctor's one of these swabs who serve out number nine pills for shell-shock, broken leg, dyspepsia, housemaid's knee and the creeping itch?
Suppose he swears I'm luny?
What then ?" "Grim will find somebody to swear to anything once," I answered.

"But you look altogether too dashed healthy--got to give the doctor-man a chance--here, get between the sheets and kid that something hurts you." "Get out! The doe 'ud put a cast-iron splint on it, and order me into a hospital.

How about toothache?
That do?
Do they give you bread and water for it ?" So toothache was selected as an alibi, and Jeremy wrapped his jaw in a towel, after jabbing his cheek with a pin so as to remember on which side the pain should be.

But it was artifice wasted, for Grim had turned a better trick.