What I say is ..."; an officer bundled into him, apologised but quite obviously cursed him for being in the way.
"Come along," said Trenchard, putting his arm on Andrey Vassilievitch's sleeve.

"We'll find somewhere to sleep.

Of course we're not in despair.

Why should we be?
You'll feel better to-morrow." They departed, and as they went I wondered at this new side in Trenchard's character.

He seemed strong, practical, and almost cheerful.