He did indeed seem inclined to say something more, but hesitated, and fumbled as he slipped back the glasses into their cases.
"Are they looking after you ?" he asked.
I told him of the sergeant.

"But are you well, sir ?" I made bold to ask.
He put the question aside.

"Henderson's a good man," he said: "I wish we had him in our company.

Ah," he broke off, "they won't be long pitching tents now!" He swung slowly on his heel and left me, at a pace almost as listless as his voice.

I felt hurt, rebuffed.