“Oh, wouldn't that be just fine. I tell you, boy, there's nothing like the U. S. government to think of things like that.”
“But have you heard anything about it?”
“No; but I surely shall.... D'you mind switching the light off?... That's it. Now just follow me. Oh, I do need a rest. I've been working dreadfully hard since that Knights of Columbus man came down here. Isn't it hateful the way they try to run down the 'Y'?... Now we can have a nice long talk. You must tell me all about yourself.”
“But don't you really know anything about that university scheme? They say it begins February fifteenth,” Andrews said in a low voice.
“I'll ask Lieutenant Bleezer if he knows anything about it,” said Sheffield soothingly, throwing an arm around Andrews's shoulder and pushing him in the door ahead of him.
They went through a dark hall to a little room where a fire burned brilliantly in the hearth, lighting up with tongues of red and yellow a square black walnut table and two heavy armchairs with leather backs and bottoms that shone like lacquer.
“This is wonderful,” said Andrews involuntarily.
“Romantic I call it. Makes you think of Dickens, doesn't it, and Locksley Hall.”
“Yes,” said Andrews vaguely.
“Have you been in France long?” asked Andrews settling himself in one of the chairs and looking into the dancing flames of the log fire. “Will you smoke?” He handed Sheffield a crumpled cigarette.