" And he laid down his
paper. The quiet English country-side vanished from before his eyes. He
saw only the white city by the Red Sea shimmering in the heat, the brown
plains about it with their tangle of halfa grass, and in the distance
the hills towards Khor Gwob.
"A stuffy place Suakin, eh, Sutch?" said General Feversham.
"Appallingly stuffy. I heard of an officer who went down on parade at
six o'clock of the morning there, sunstruck in the temples right through
a regulation helmet. Yes, a town of dank heat! But I was glad to be
there--very glad," he said with some feeling.
"Yes," said Feversham, briskly; "ibex, eh?"
"No," replied Sutch. "All the ibex had been shot off by the English
garrison for miles round."
"No? Something to do, then. That's it?"
"Yes, that's it, Feversham. Something to do."
And both men busied themselves again over their papers. But in a little
while a footman brought to each a small pile of letters. General
Feversham ran over his envelopes with a quick eye, selected one letter,
and gave a grunt of satisfaction. He took a pair of spectacles from a
case and placed them upon his nose.
"From Ramelton?" asked Sutch, dropping his newspaper on to the terrace.
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