They joined up with another small group, and for the first time Peter had to give his name as he was introduced.

He forgot the others, as soon as he heard them, and they forgot his.

A big Dublin Fusilier officer with a tiny moustache, that seemed ludicrous in his great face, exchanged a few sentences with him.

They left the quay and crossed a wide space where a bridge debouched towards the railway-station.

Donovan, who was walking ahead, passed on, but the Fusilier suggested to Peter that they might as well see the R.T.O.