He was an Englishman, though not a Londoner.
"Candidate for the Life Guards," I remarked to him.

"You've hit it, mate," was his reply; "I've served my bit in that same, and the way things are I'll be back at it before long." For an hour we stood quietly in this packed courtyard.

Then the men began to grow restless.

There was pushing and shoving forward, and a mild hubbub of voices.

Nothing rough, however, nor violent; merely the restlessness of weary and hungry men.