"You let her go; and—and you a Dalberg and a soldier! You don't deserve her—she ought to go to Lotzen—to Casimir—to any one but you. Why, you drivelling idiot, do you realize that, but for the chance of my having lugged—yes, that's the word, lugged you here you would now be doing childish problems in cement and stone in some miserable little Army department headquarters over in America?"
It was delicious to see Courtney roused, once in his life. Choking back my laugh, I answered:
"You have not put it half strongly enough. You may be a fool, as you say—there's no doubt that I've been a colossal one."
"You ought to be in an asylum for weak-minded instead of in that uniform," he ejaculated.
"But, thanks to you, I'm in the uniform and not in the asylum," I answered.
"Pray God you have sense enough, now, to keep in the one and out of the other," he retorted.
"Amen, Courtney, old man," said I, "Amen!"
Then I sprang away and into saddle—waving my hand to him as he came hastily to the door to stay me.