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'self-made'," I remarked. "Perhaps he won fifty thou-
sand in a sweepstake. But if he'd done that he'd still
be telling everyone about it, and would probably
have given most of it away by now."

"Perhaps he's in the hands of trustees," suggested
Kegworthy. I agreed that it might be so, and nomi-
nated Mrs. O'Donnell as one of them. Of Mrs.
O'Donnell at any rate, we knew for certain that she
had given %us a "high-tea" after hunting which had
made dining in the mess seem almost unthinkable.
It had been a banquet. Cold salmon and snipe and
unsurpassable home-made bread and honey had in-
deed caused us to forget that there was a war on;
while as for Mrs. O'D. herself, in five minutes she
made me feel that I'd known her all my life and could
rely on her assistance in any emergency. It may have
been only her Irish exuberance, but it all seemed so
natural and homely in that solid plainly-furnished
dining-room where everything was for use and com-
fort more than for ornament.

The house was a large villa, about a mile from the
barracksó-just outside the town. There I sat, laugh-
ing and joking, and puffing my pipe, and feeling fond
of the old Mister who had reached an advanced stage
of cronydom with Kegworthy, while between them
they diminished a decanter of whisky. And then Mrs.
O'Donnell asked me whether I played golf; but before
I could reply the maid called her out of the room to
the telephone, which enabled the word "golf" to
transport me from Ireland to Scotland and see myself
cleaning my clubs in my room at the hydro, and de-
ciding that the only thing to do was to go back to
the War again. How serious that decision had^been,
and how blithely life was obliterating ^ it until this
visualized memory evoked by the mention of "golf"