On the broad stairs of that huge hotel which the United States Expeditionary Force has taken over for its headquarters in Paris Bert stopped suddenly.
“I can’t help you move in to-night,” he said. “But there isn’t much to do. Get a taxi to take up our boxes and bedding-rolls. I’m going to be busy.”
“So am I,” said Kendall, Andree recalled to his mind after she had been absent from it since morning.
“Huh!” grunted Bert. “Same one you were with last night?”
“Go chase yourself,” said Kendall.
“If it is,” Bert continued, “we might make a mixed quartet of it. Dinner and then promenade avec. Eh?”
Kendall hesitated. It sounded pleasant, but he was not sure Andree would like it—and he was not sure about the sort of girl Bert might have chosen for a companion. Andree, he had made up his mind, was not the sort of girl who would take up with anybody.
“Nothing doing,” he said.
“Why?”
“Who’s your girl?” Kendall countered.