g, to turn up suddenly once more!

Heasy and I duly met at Charing Cross next morning, to hear that once
more the leave boat had been cancelled owing to loosened mines floating
about. Again I returned to my friends who by this time seemed to think I
had "come to stay." On the Wednesday (we were now getting to know all
the porters quite well by sight) we really did get off; but when we
arrived at Folkestone it was to find the platform crammed with returning
leave-men and officers, and to hear the same tale--the boat had _again_
been cancelled. None of the officers were being allowed to return to
town, but by dint of good luck and a little palm oil, we dashed into a
cab and reached the other station just in time to catch the up-going
train. "We stay at an hotel to-night," I said to Heasy, "I positively
won't turn up at the D's _again_." We got to town in time for lunch, and
then went to see the _Happy Day_, at Daly's (very well named we
thought), where Heasy's brother was entertaining a party. He had seen us
off, "positively for the last time," at 7.30 that morning. We saw him in
the distance, and in the interval we instructed the programme girl to
take round a slip of paper on which we printed:--"If you will come round
to Stalls 21 and 22 you will hear of something to your advantage."
George Heasman came round utterly mystified, and when he saw us once
more, words quite failed him!

On the Thursday down we went again, and this time we actually _did_ get
on board, though they kept us hanging about on the Folkestone platform
for hours before they decided, and the rain dripped down our necks from
that inadequate wooden roofing that had obviously been put up by some
war profiteer on the cheap. The congestion was something frightful, and
there were twelve hundred on board instead of the usual seven or eight.
"We can't blow _over_ at any rate," I said cheerfully to Heasy, in a
momentary lull in the gale. There were so many people on board that
there was just standing room and that was all. We hastily swallowed some
more Mother-sill and hoped for the best (we had consumed almost a whole
boxful owing to our many false starts). We were in the highest spirits.
The only other woman on board was an army sister, who came and stood
near us. Lifebelts were ordered to be put on, and as I tied Heasy's the
aforementioned Sister turned to me and said: "You ought to tie that
tighter; it will come undone very easily in the waves!" Heasy and