"Here we are," said Jenks.

"It's up an infernal flight of steps." The officers' club in Rouen was not monstrously attractive, but they got a good wash in a little room that looked out over a tangle of picturesque roofs, and finally some excellent coffee and bacon and eggs.
Jenks lit a cigarette and handed one to Peter.

"Better leave your traps," he said.

"I'll go up with you; I've nothing to do." Outside the street was filling with the morning traffic, and the two walked up the slight hill to the accompaniment of a running fire of comments and explanations from Jenks, "That's Cox's--useful place for the first half of a month, but not much use to me, anyway, for the second....

You ought to go to I that shop and buy picture post-cards, padre; there's a topping girl who sells 'em....