of Boyd Dawkins's pupils ... or one of mine."

_David_: "On the contrary, I am very, very much interested in the
subject, but I am afraid it has lain rather outside my line of
studies so far--p'raps I will turn south when I have seen something
of the part of Glamorgan I am going to. I'm really Welsh in origin,
but I know Wales imperfectly because I left it when I was quite
young" ("This'll be good practice," Vivie's brain voice was saying
to herself) ... "I've returned recently from South Africa."

_Blackbeard_: "What were you doing there?"

_David_: "I--I--was in the army ... at least in a police force ... I
got wounded, had to go into hospital--necrosis of the jaw ... I came
home when I got well..."

_Blackbeard_: _"Necrosis of the jaw!_ That was a bad thing. But you
seem to have got over it very well. I can't see any scar from where
I am..."

_David_: "Oh no. It was only a _slight_ touch and I dare say I
exaggerate ... I've left the Army however and now I'm reading
Law..."

Blackbeard thinks at this point that he has gone far enough in
cross-examination and returns to his periodicals and pamphlets. But
there's something he likes--a wistfulness--in the young man's face,
and he can't quite detach his mind to the presence of palæolithic
man in South Wales. At Swindon they both get out--there was still
lingering the practice of taking lunch there--have a hasty lunch