The prelate arched his eyebrows, and an interrogation shot out from under them.
“Yes,” answered the observant soldier. “My heart has ever been hers; this time it is my hand and brain.”
The prelate's egg spoon remained poised in mid-air; then it dropped with a clatter into the cup! But a moment gone he had held a sword in his hand; he was disarmed.
“I have promised to stand and fall with her.”
“Stand and fall? Why not 'or'?” with a long, steadfast gaze.
“Did I say 'and'? Well, then,” stolidly, “perhaps that is the word I meant to use. If I do the one I shall certainly do the other.”
The archbishop absently stirred his eggs.
“God is witness,” said the Marshal, “I have always been honest.”
“Yes.”
“And neutral.”