“What else is there?” said Bruno, filling the brigadiers glass.
“Why—is—” said the brigadier, holding his glass up before the lamp; “it is rather a delicate question, you see.”
“Go on,” said Bruno; “I am listening.”
“You will not be angry, I hope, at what I am about to say?”
“I think you ought to know my character better by this time,” said Bruno.
“True, true, you are not irritable, I know that well,” said the brigadier. “I am speaking about a certain waggon—there, now its out.”
“That is down in the court-yard,” observed Bruno, holding his glass up to the light in his turn.
“I am rather doubtful,” replied the brigadier; “but you understand me, I cannot go without my waggon.”
“Very well, then, you shall take it with you,” said Bruno.
“Untouched?”