"So? That's tiresome. The sooner one gets away from this God-forsaken hole the better. By the way, there will be quite a little party of us with you. Seleneck tells me he is expecting a Kommando at the Turnschule, and I am moving heaven and earth to get ditto. You, lucky dog, are freed for ever from this treadmill existence."
The young Artillery captain glanced sharply at the speaker's good-looking face, and a close observer would have noticed that his brows had contracted.
"The way out is open to every one," he observed curtly.
The other laughed and chose to misunderstand him.
"Only to the workers, my dear fellow. And I confess that work has no fascination for me. I am not ambitious enough, and on the whole I suppose one form of drudgery is as bad as another. You like that sort of thing, and I envy you, but I fear I have no powers of emulation."
There was something grim in Arnim's subsequent silence which might have drawn the dragoon's attention had it been allowed to last. At that moment, however, an elderly-looking officer detached himself from the group by the window and came to where the two men were seated.
"I'm off home," he said. "Are you coming my way, Arnim?"
Arnim rose with an alacrity which suggested relief.
"Yes, as far as the Kaiser Strasse. You will excuse me, Bauer? I must tell the good news at home, or I shall never be forgiven."
The dragoon bowed.