“I had rather stay away. It would only provoke what I should feel cruelly, and I could not resent it.”
“No, but I could; and if any one insults you by sending you to Coventry, I’ll provoke him. I suppose I mustn’t punch my superior officer’s head, but off duty I can tell him what I think of him, and I’ll let him have it hot and strong.”
“Then I shall stay away.”
“No, you sha’n’t. I will instead.”
“That would be worse, Bob. Look here; I want you to help me to live this charge down, to treat it with quiet contempt. If you make yourself so fierce a partisan you will keep the wound sore and prevent it from healing up.”
“Very well, then; I’ll give it a good chance. There, I promise you I won’t show my temper a bit; only play fair.”
“In what way?”
“Don’t turn upon me afterwards and call me a coward for not taking your part.”
“Never fear. I don’t want you to get into hot water for my sake.”
“My dear boy,” said Dickenson, chuckling like a cuckoo in a coppice in early spring, “that’s impossible.”