Judging the thick-set man to be the least intoxicated and more decent, she appealed to him for protection. The lower part only of his face was visible, but she saw that he laughed.
"He don't mean no harm. Keep still and he'll go on about his business," he assured her.
Jean's face blazed and her heart beat with the force of four.
The tall man emptied his mouth of tobacco juice and other fluids and substances, and the sickening mixture fell so close to Jean's foot that her boot was spattered. Then he wiped the dribbles on the back of his hand and turned to her.
He bent so close that his hot, foul breath struck her with staggering force and his bloated face almost touched her cheek.
"You're-a-hic-a little peach," he said, with a leer, "and-a-hic-I'm-a-hic-a going to k-k-kiss you."
It was then Jean screamed with all her might, and at the same moment a man sprang to her rescue from a light buggy that had rounded the bend of the drive unobserved.
The thick-set man suddenly disappeared, but the other soldier, either too drunk for rapid movement or too muddled to understand the gravity of the situation, only rose to his feet and stood leering at Jean with disgusting admiration.
The next instant he was felled to the earth and a broad-shouldered man stood over him ready to render a second blow if occasion demanded.