"Menin!" The rising inflection of the sentry's voice expressed a mild
surprise. "The old Mill! Are you going there?"
"Yes," said Barry, answering his inflection. "Why not?"
"Well, sir, you know, it's rather a bad road. Warm bit of country up
there, but--" He shrugged his shoulders in quite a French manner as if
to say it was no business of his. "If you are going to Menin, you keep
this road straight through past Wipers past the Cloth Hall, out by the
Menin Gate. A hot place, that, sir. Then straight on, taking the right
incline for about a mile and a half. You will see a big cemetery on your
left. The Mill stands near a big school on your right. But why not drop
into the dressing station, here, sir, right here in this old mill, which
stands at the cross-roads? You may catch an ambulance going straight up
to the Mill."
"Thank you very much," said Barry. "We'll do that very thing."
"Good luck, sir," said the sentry, saluting.
They found an ambulance about to start, and asked for a lift.
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