“Do you want me to corroborate you?”
“Could you?”
“I’ve had a wonderful time,” she said lightly.
CHAPTER VI
John Estridge, out of a job––as were a million odd others now arriving from France by every transport––met James Shotwell, Junior, one wintry day as the latter was leaving the real estate offices of Sharrow & Co.
“The devil,” exclaimed Estridge; “I supposed you, at least, were safe in the service, Jim! Isn’t your regiment in Germany?”
“It is,” replied Shotwell wrathfully, shaking hands. “Where do you come from, Jack?”
“From hell––via Copenhagen. In milder but misleading metaphor, I come from Holy Russia.”
“Did the Red Cross fire you?”