Crayford looked after him.
"Halloo! what are you doing there ?" "Thawing my beard, sir." "Come here directly, and set to work on these bones." John Want remained immovably attached to the fire-place, holding something else over the fire.

Crayford began to lose his temper.
"What the devil are you about now ?" "Thawing my watch, sir.

It's been under my pillow all night, and the cold has stopped it.

Cheerful, wholesome, bracing sort of climate to live in; isn't it, sir?
Never mind! _I_ don't grumble." "No, we all know that.

Look here! Are these bones pounded small enough ?" John Want suddenly approached the lieutenant, and looked at him with an appearance of the deepest interest.
"You'll excuse me, sir," he said; "how very hollow your voice sounds this morning!" "Never mind my voice.