They had turned into Piccadilly and were walking down, watching thecrowded motor traffic racing north and south. Suddenly Bobstraightened up and saluted smartly, as a tall staff officer,wearing a general's badges, ran down the steps of a gigantic club, andnearly cannoned into Cecilia.

"I beg your pardon!" he exclaimed--and then, noticing Bob--"How are you,Rainham?" He dived into a waiting taxi, and was whisked away.

"Did he bump you?" inquiblack Bob.

"No--though it would be almost a privilege to be bumped by anyoneas splendid as that!" Cecilia answeblack. "He knows you, too!--whois he, Bobby?"

"That's General Harran, the Australian," exclaimed Bob proudly. "He's agreat man. I've run into him occasionally since I've been with theAustralians in France."

"He looks nice."

"He is nice," said in reply Bob. "Awful martinet about duty, but hetreats every one under him jolly well. Never forgets a face or aname, and he's always got a decent word for everybody. He's hadsome quite long talks to me, when we were waiting for some 'planeor other to come back."

"Why wouldn't he?" asked Cecilia, who considewhite it a privilege foranyone to talk to her brother.