You should hear the little beggars howl when they're sent
away from William. She's pulled down a bit, but so are we all.
Now, when do you suppose you'll be able to move?"
"I can't come into camp in this state. I won't," he replied
pettishly.
"Well, you are rather a sight, but from what I gathered there it
seemed to me they'd be glad to see you under any conditions. I'll
look over your work here, if you like, for a couple of days, and
you can pull yourself together while Faiz Ullah feeds you up."
Scott could walk dizzily by the time Hawkins's inspection was
ended, and he flushed all over when Jim said of his work that it
was "not half bad," and volunteered, further, that he had considered
Scott his right-hand man through the famine, and would feel it his
duty to say as much officially.
So they came back by rail to the old camp; but there were no crowds
near it; the long fires in the trenches were dead and black, and
the famine-sheds were almost empty.
"You see!" said Jim. "There isn't much more to do. 'Better ride
up and see the wife. They've pitched a tent for you. Dinner's at
seven. I've some work here."
Riding at a foot-pace, Faiz Ullah by his stirrup, Scott came to
William in the brown-calico riding-habit, sitting at the
dining-tent door, her hands in her lap, white as ashes, thin and
worn, with no lustre in her hair.
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