"Pam," he said, "Walter Markham and I were talking about you to-night—and I told him the truth, child—that we weren't engaged, and hadn't any feeling for each other."
"Why?"
"A man knows when another man—cares. I'm glad I'm off to-morrow. Pam, I was just an incident, kid—an incident."
"Did—did Mr. Markham say—he cared?"
"He's too loyal a pal for that. Besides, until I told him, he thought——"
"What did he say when you told him?"
"I—I don't know. I just walked out of his hut and came to you. He's not going with us to-morrow, you know—he's going to take on the new draft. I—I'm glad. Pam, say that I'm just an incident. I shall feel better about things, kid! I feel awful!"
"You're just an incident!" I said quietly.
I couldn't send him away with that look on his face.
He bent and kissed my hand.