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 Major Street was quite a nice man. He had been in South Africa, played polo in the winning regimental team at Hurlingham or Ranelagh, and also won the Kadir Cup. I don't know what that last is. I must remember to ask someone whom I don't mind knowing how ignorant I am. The Kadir Cup must be something very wonderful, as no less than three men have told me in awed whispers of Major Street's winning it. I do love to hear nice fresh boys talking in awed and admiring whispers of some great deed done by some man whom they look upon as a minor deity in consequence. There were four young subs just straight from Sandhurst on board. We became great friends. Their freshness was wonderful, like their moustaches. One of them had won a sword at Sandhurst, and of course he was the most modest of them all. They didn't talk much to the other ladies on board, and so people naturally said spiteful things about them, and I don't think I was just exactly popular among the women-folk on board that ship. If I had only been five years younger, and had not had quite such varied experiences, I should have fallen in love with that Sword Boy from Sandhurst right away. He was so gloriously young and loyal and enthusiastic and keen on life. It kind of freshened you up to talk to him. Of course, he hadn't what people call an idea in his head, and he admitted that he didn't know how he passed his exams. Yet if he doesn't get on in the army, and rise to the top of the tree, then all