“Then you ain’t hurt, sir?”
“Not that I know of.”
“But something went off, sir.”
“Soda-water.”
“Oh, no, sir; hundred times as loud as that.”
“Never mind. I’m thirsty. Bring me some.”
“Yes, sir; directly, sir,” cried Jerry, and he hurried out into the lobby, to come back in a minute with a glass of the sparkling anti-feverish water, to find the lieutenant bathing his face.
“Hah, that’s refreshing!” said Lacey, returning the glass to the waiter Jerry held in his trembling hands. “Why, you look as if you had seen a ghost, Brigley!”
“I thought I was going to see one, sir—yours! And you ain’t hurt a bit?”
“It’s quite bad enough to have to be shot by other people, Brigley, without trying to hurt oneself. But how came you to think such a thing?”