“How is it you ain't out with the company?”
“Ah'm barracks guard,” muttered Chrisfield. He could feel the blood beating in his wrists and temples, stinging his eyes like fire. He was staring at the floor in front of Anderson's feet.
“Orders was all the companies was to go out an' not leave any guard.”
“Ah!'
“We'll see about that when Sergeant Higgins comes in. Is this place tidy?”
“You say Ah'm a goddamed liar, do ye?” Chrisfield felt suddenly cool and joyous. He felt anger taking possession of him. He seemed to be standing somewhere away from himself watching himself get angry.
“This place has got to be cleaned up.... That damn General may come back to look over quarters,” went on Anderson coolly.
“You call me a goddam liar,” said Chrisfield again, putting as much insolence as he could summon into his voice. “Ah guess you doan' remember me.”
“Yes, I know, you're the guy tried to run a knife into me once,” said Anderson coolly, squaring his shoulders. “I guess you've learned a little discipline by this time. Anyhow you've got to clean this place up. God, they haven't even brushed the birds' nests down! Must be some company!” said Anderson with a half laugh.
“Ah ain't agoin' to neither, fur you.”