Throne. The place
was divided by a calico curtain, over which plainly showed the top of a
mosquito curtain--she slept in there. On the walls were all tender texts
about loving and believing and bearing others' burdens, interspersed
with photographs, mostly of women with plain features and enthusiastic
eyes, dressed in some strange costume of the Army in Madras, Ceylon,
China. A little wooden table stood against the wall holding an album, a
Bible and hymn-books, a work-basket and an irrelevant Japanese doll
which seemed to stretch its absurd arms straight out in a gay little
ineffectual heathen protest. There was another more embarrassing table;
it had a coarse cloth and was garnished with a loaf and butter-dish, a
plate of plantains and a tin of marmalade, knives and teacups for a
meal evidently impending. It was atrociously, sordidly intimate, with
its core in Harris, who when Miss Filbert had well gone from the room
looked up. "If you're here on private business," he said to Lindsay,
fixing his eyes, however, on a point awkwardly to the left of him,
"maybe you ain't aware that the Ensign"--he threw his head back in the
direction of the next room--"is the person to apply to. She's in command
here. Captain Filbert's only under her."

"Indeed?" said Lindsay. "Thanks."

"It ain't like it is in the Queen's army," Harris volunteered, still
searching Lindsay's vicinity for a point upon which his eye could
permanently rest, "where, if you remember, ensigns are the smallest
officer we have."

"The commission is, I think, abolished," replied Lindsay, trying to
govern a deep and irritated frown.

"Maybe so. This Army don't pretend to pattern very close on the
other--not in discipline, anyhow," said Mr. Harris with ambiguity. "But
you'll find Ensign Sand very willing to do anything she can for you.
She's a hard-working officer."

A sharp wail smote the air from a point suspiciously close to the lath
and canvas partition on the other side, followed by hasty hushings and
steps in the opposite direction. It enabled Lindsay to observe that Mr.
Sand seemed at present to be sufficiently engaged, at which Mr. Harris
shifted one heavy limb over the other, and lapsed into silence, looking
sternly at an advertisement. The air was full of their mutual annoyance,
although Duff tried to feel amused. They were raging as primitively,
under the red flannel shirt and the tan-coloured waistcoat with white
silk spots, as two cave-men on an Ea