"Oh--that--" (Horne looked absently at a blue-veined hand and shuffled uneasily), "that must have come from my spell of 'C.H.'--confined in hospital. Got knocked up a bit again. Flying over Belgium. Got shot down and hit the edge of Holland a trifle too hard when I volplaned over the boundary. Telescoped a few vertebrae, that's all. Now, be a good chap and stop asking questions and jump in with me and come along to the Club."

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