“Yes. I even remember that he used to tell me about a fellow he knew who was called Al.... He used to tell me about how you two used to go down to the harbor and watch the big liners come in at night, all aflare with lights through the Golden Gate. And he used to tell you he'd go over to Europe in one, when he'd made his pile.”
“That's why Strasburg made me think of him,” broke in Al, tremendously excited. “'Cause it was so picturesque like.... But honest, I've tried hard to make good in this army. I've done everything a feller could. An' all I did was to get into a cushy job in the regimental office.... But Dan, Gawd, he may even be an officer by this time.”
“No, he's not that,” said Andrews. “Look here, you ought to keep quiet with that hand of yours.”
“Damn my hand. Oh, it'll heal all right if I forget about it. You see, my foot slipped when they shunted a car I was just climbing into, an'...I guess I ought to be glad I wasn't killed. But, gee, when I think that if I hadn't been a fool about that girl I might have been home by now....”
“The Chink says they're putting up barricades on the Avenue Magenta.”
“That means business, kid!”
“Business nothin',” shouted Slippery from where he and Chrisfield leaned over the dice on the tile floor in front of the window. “One tank an' a few husky Senegalese'll make your goddam socialists run so fast they won't stop till they get to Dijon.... You guys ought to have more sense.” Slippery got to his feet and came over to the bed, jingling the dice in his hand. “It'll take more'n a handful o' socialists paid by the Boches to break the army. If it could be broke, don't ye think people would have done it long ago?”
“Shut up a minute. Ah thought Ah heard somethin',” said Chrisfield suddenly, going to the window.
They held their breath. The bed creaked as Al stirred uneasily in it.
“No, warn't anythin'; Ah'd thought Ah'd heard people singin'.”