the ordeal before him to permit any consciousness of external
things to creep into it. He was "up against it and no mistake," he observed
to himself. There was the paper in his pocket telling him the time and
place at which he was to present himself for medical examination. He put
his hand in his pocket. It was there all right. Kilburn. Twelve o'clock.

Yes, he was fairly up against it. Not, as he hastened to assure himself,
that he objected.... Not at all.... He had always been a patriot, and
always would be. He'd love to have a smack at the Huns. He'd give them what
for.... He wished he'd been a bit younger--that's what he wished. If he'd
been a bit younger he'd have gone like a shot. That's what he'd have
done--he'd have gone like a shot. No fetching him--if he'd been a bit
younger. But a chap at thirty-eight ... well....

Here was the "Golden Crown." Yes, he thought he'd better have "just one."
It would pull him together and give the doctors a chance. He ought to give
them a chance whatever the consequence to himself. A whisky-and-soda would
just put him "in the pink."

There, that was better. Now he could face anything. Now for Kilburn. How
should he go? It was two miles at least ... a good two miles. There was No.
16--he could take that. And there was the Tube--he could take that.

Or he could walk. There was plenty of time.... Yes, on the whole he thought
he ought to walk. There was that varicose vein. The doctors ought to know
about that. It wouldn't be fair to them or to the country that they
shouldn't know about it. Varicose veins were very serious affairs indeed.
He knew because he'd looked the subject up in the dictionary. It had made
such a deep impression on him-that he could repeat what it said:--

"The dilation and thickening of the veins with lengthening and tortuosity,
and projection of certain points in the form of knots or knobs, in which
the blood coagulates, fibrin is deposited, and in the centre sometimes even
osseous matter; in addition the coats of the veins are diseased."

There was more about it than that. It looked a very black case indeed. Many
a man had been turned down for varicose veins, and--and--well, the doctors
ought to know about it. That was all.... They ought to know about it.... He
oughtn't to go there and pass himself off under false pretences.... Mind
you, he wanted to fight the Germans all right. He wanted to do his
bit--nobody more so. But was it fair not to let the doctor