Most of them haven't an idea what those are, but dumbly they know.

Tommy knows, for instance, who is a good chum and who isn't; that is, he knows that sincerity and unselfishness and pluck are realities.

He doesn't care a damn if a chap drinks and swears and commits what the Statute-Book and the Prayer-Book call fornication.

And he certainly doesn't think there is an ascending scale of sins, or at any rate that you parsons have got the scale right." "I shouldn't be surprised if we haven't," said Peter.

"The Bible lumps liars and drunkards and murderers and adulterers and dogs--whatever that may mean--into hell altogether." "That's so," said Langton, sticking a candle on the window-sill; "but I reckon that's not so much because they lie or drink or murder or lust or--or grin about the city like our friend Jenks, who'll likely miss the boat for that very reason, but because of something else they all have in common." "What's that ?" demanded Peter.
"I haven't the faintest idea," said Langton.
At this moment the French guard, an R.T.O., and Jenks appeared in sight simultaneously, the two former urging the latter along.