'Red-hot,'" he said, with a chuckle.
"That's what they called me in the regiment.

Red-hot Barstow.

I'll bet that Red-hot Barstow is still pretty well remembered among the boys at Cheltenham." "Swearing's bad form nowadays," said Archie Parminter, superciliously.
"They have given it up at the clubs." Sylvia seized the moment and rose from the table.

Her father sprang forward and opened the door.
"We will join you in a few minutes," he said.
Sylvia went down the passage to the room at the back of the house in which she had been presented by her father to his friends.

She rang the bell at once and when the servant came she said: "I gave you a letter to post this evening.