"That aren't the only difference, Alf," she said soothingly. "See, Ern's got me. That makes up to him a lot, he says. He says he don't care nothing so long as he's got me to issalf, he says.... Strawberries and cream and plenty of em, he calls me when he's got the curtains draw'd up there, and me a-settin on his knee."
Alf retreated, burning and baffled. She came to the door drying her arms, and pursued her victim with eyes in which the lightning played with laughter; as fastidious and dainty in her cruelty as a cat sporting with a mouse.
A little way down the street he paused and turned. Then he came back a pace or two stealthily. His face was mottled and he was tilting his chin, mysterious and confidential.
"Never hear e'er a word from the Captain?" he asked, in a hushed voice.
Ruth flashed a terrible white and her bosom surged.
"I do times," continued the tormentor, and bustled on his way with a malignant chuckle.
CHAPTER V
THE CREEPING DEATH
One evening at the club, Mr. Trupp asked the Colonel what had happened to Captain Royal.
"He went through the Staff College, and now he's at the War Office, I believe," the other answered curtly.