“Take you with me as A.D.C.,” he rasped as they wandered out, on that last morning, to inspect the batteries.
“Thank you, Colonel.” The phrase rose easily to Peter’s lips; but the tone of it was utterly non-committal.
They walked on.
“Well?” continued Stark.
“It’s very decent of you, Colonel, but—”
“Nice soft job, P.J.!”
“Too soft, Colonel.”
They looked each other in the eyes. Then the Weasel said: “You’re a married man, P.J.” and Peter, stubbornly: “What difference does that make, Colonel?”
“The pay’s better.”
“I didn’t join the army to make money, sir.”