He glances with feverish interest at one after the other. A cheer is
heard outside, then the sound of fifes and drums. He rises excitedly and
throws open the French window. The tramp, tramp of a regiment is heard._
TWO OFFICERS _in uniform, a_ GENERAL _and a_ CAPTAIN, _enter left._
GENERAL
[_A strongly-built man in middle age, with a firm, resolute face._
Evening, Grosvenor. Not poaching on your rights if we come in here a
minute? The other windows were crowded.
GROSVENOR
Not at all, General, not at all. We're all making way for the khaki
today, sir. And proud to have the chance.
[_With overdone politeness to the Captain, a handsome man of the
romantic type._
Take my place, Captain.
CAPTAIN
Thanks. Great tune that, eh? Stirs up a man's vitals, eh?
GROSVENOR
Yes, indeed; yes, indeed.
CAPTAIN
Wait till we put that into the repertory of the enemy's bandmasters.
[_Leaning out of the window._
Come. They're a fine-looking lot, eh?
GENERAL
Fine! Fine! The pick of the land. Fighters to a finish, every one of
'em.
CAPTAIN
And say, but they're thanking God tonight for the war-scare that's
brought 'em back from manoeuvres.
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