“Over there?”
“Yes. But that’s not likely at present. However, it’s bad enough to go to Washington. How can I leave you?”
“I’ll go, too.”
“No, dear, that won’t be practicable. I shall be in the University Camp, drilling engineers, I suppose, but I want to do more and bigger things than that. I can’t tell you all about it, Posy Face, but as soon as I get further orders I’ll know better where I’m at.”
“Are you bothered and troubled, my Billee Boy?”
“I am, Patty. I don’t want to worry you with it, dearest, and you couldn’t understand it all, anyway, but there is a lot of backbiting and undermining and wire-pulling in Washington, and it even mixes into Army and Navy matters.”
“Then you’ll have to be an undermining engineer, won’t you?”
“Patty! You little rogue! You’d make a joke out of anything, I believe.”
“’Course I would! Now, Billee, you mustn’t look so down-hearted. You’ve got me for a joy and a comfort,—not for a burden and a—a millstone about your neck!”
“I like to have you about my neck, all right,—but you’re a featherweight, not a millstone.”