"Henceforth," he said, "take care, I beg you, not to mix mementoes of your gallantry with the official papers."
He added, with a smile that spoke insult:
"It isn't necessary to furnish objects of excitation to Gourrut."
"André," I said, and I was white, "I demand—"
He stood up to the full height of his stature.
"Well what is it? A gallantry, nothing more. I have authorized you to speak of Wadi Halfa, haven't I? Then I have the right, I should think—"
"André!"
Now he was looking maliciously at the wall, at the little portrait the replica of which I had just subjected to this painful scene.
"There, there, I say, you aren't angry, are you? But between ourselves you will admit, will you not, that she is a little thin?"
And before I could find time to answer him, he had removed himself, humming the shameful refrain of the previous night: