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[Page 148]

Most of the assemblage were dining on soup and potatoes, so I opened more of my Red Cross then I could well afford in my endeavour to "do Hold Hingland proud".

Amid gasps I placed a large tin of bacon and beans in a dish, & then hustled the waiter for more dishes.

I opened then a tin of Morton's sausages, a Morton pudding (which I covered with condensed milk as a sauce), a tin of cheese, and a plate of biscuits.

An obese and stately frau, dining on soup with her "brass-hatted" hubby at the next table, was wounded to the uttermost depths of her gastronomic soul. She passionately asked Gott and her hubby why the verdammte Englander should gloat over Her Sufferings – so much I gathered from the flood of language she let forth.

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