“We will now continue our excursion up the hill,” announced the English Major. “But we will keep off the road, if you ladies don’t object. It is registered from top to bottom, you know.”
“Just what does that mean?” enquired Miss Lane, whose natural curiosity was coming back with her breath.
“It means,” replied the Major, removing a shining monocle from his right eye and wiping it with a khaki handkerchief, “that the Boche has the range to every yard of it. As he usually searches it with H.E. and shrapnel every few hours, it is healthier to keep on the grass when going up and down this hill. Are we far enough away now, do you think, Cruttenden?”
“Ye-es. But it would be better to split into two parties, I should say. Less conspicuous—eh?”
The Major readjusted his monocle, and replied solemnly:
“By all means. This young lady and I will extend another hundred yards to the left. Cruttenden, considering your tender years, you display a promising acquaintance with tactics. Also diplomacy. So long!”
So by force of tactical exigency, Frances Lane and Boone Cruttenden walked up the hillside in the rain together. Major Floyd and Miss Ryker were discernible in the failing daylight, keeping station on the left flank.
“Now, tell me!” Boone and Frances began together. Then they stopped. Boone smiled.
“Ladies first!” he said.