§ + 

6 + 

In that computation he reckoned without Hugh. + 

Within a month Hugh was also saying “Goodbye.” + 

“But how’s this?” protested Mr. Britling, who had already guessed the answer. “You’re not nineteen.” + 

“I’m nineteen enough for this job,” said Hugh. “In fact, I enlisted as nineteen.” + 

Mr. Britling said nothing for a little while. Then he spoke with a catch in his breath. “I don’t blame you,” he said. “It was⁠—the right spirit.” + 

Drill and responsibilities of noncommissioned rank had imposed a novel manliness upon the bearing of Corporal Britling. “I always classified a little above my age at Statesminster,” he said as though that cleared up everything. + 

He looked at a rosebud as though it interested him. Then he remarked rather casually: + 

“I thought,” he said, “that if I was to go to war I’d better do the thing properly. It seemed⁠—sort of half and half⁠—not to be eligible for the trenches.⁠ ⁠… I ought to have told you.⁠ ⁠…” + 

“Yes,” Mr. Britling decided. + 

“I was shy about it at first.⁠ ⁠… I thought perhaps the war would be over before it was necessary to discuss anything.⁠ ⁠… Didn’t want to go into it.” + 

“Exactly,” said Mr. Britling as though that was a complete explanation. + 

“It’s been a good year for your roses,” said Hugh. + 