human
What's the use, one of them asked,
gpt
Won't it? cried Armstrong, looking up with a bright expression from a sheet of paper, on which he had just been writing.
human
Here am I writin' home to _my_ wife--in a hurry too, for I've only just heard that word has been passed, the mail for England goes to-day. I'm warned for guard to-night, too; an' if the night takes after the day we're in for a chance o' suffocation, to say nothing o' insects--as you all know. Now, won't it mend matters that I've got a dear girl over the sea to think about, and to say `God bless her, body and soul?'
gpt
No doubt, retorted the take-things-as-they-come-and-be-jolly man,
human
But, cried Hall, coming promptly to his rescue,
gpt
I daresay they have--some of 'em.
human
Well, does the thought of your respective wives an' children prevent your shooting or sticking each other when you get the chance?
gpt
Of course it don't! returned Armstrong, with a laugh as he resumed his pencil.
human
What would be the use o' comin' here if we didn't do that? But I haven't time to argue with you just now, Hall. All I know is that it's my duty to write to my wife, an' I won't let the chance slip when I've got it.
gpt
Bah!