The song had started again:
“O Mademerselle from Armenteers,
Parley voo?
“Their helmets looked so damn like toadstools I came near laughin'. An' they sat round the lamp layin' down the cards serious-like, the way I've seen Germans do in the Rathskeller at home.”
“He loved the women and liked the wine,
Parley voo?
“I lay there lookin' at 'em for a hell of a time, an' then I clicked a grenade an' tossed it gently down the steps. An' all those funny helmets like toadstools popped up in the air an' somebody gave a yell an' the light went out an' the damn grenade went off. Then I let 'em have the rest of 'em an' went away 'cause one o' 'em was still moanin'-like. It was about that time they let their barrage down on us and I got mine.”
“The Yanks are havin' a hell of a time,
Parley voo?
“An' the first thing I thought of when I woke up was how those goddam helmets looked. It upsets a feller to think of a thing like that.” His voice ended in a whine like the broken voice of a child that has been beaten.
“You need to pull yourself together, kid,” said his friend.
“I know what I need, Tub. I need a woman.”
“You know where you get one?” asked Meadville. “I'd like to get me a nice little French girl a rainy night like this.”