Paul uttered an oath that made her cringe and drop his arm.
"Why should he try to smear you with his filth?" he exploded savagely. "He knows you are my cousin and under my protection. Schweinhund!"
"Hush! Somebody will overhear you, Paul."
"Yes! And then I will 'get mine,' eh? I know it," he snarled. "These officers—these dastardly nobles—demand everything of us—our women, too. I hate them!"
"And yet you fight for them?" she whispered, close to his ear.
"No! Gott! No! I fight for the Fatherland," declared Paul proudly. Then he suddenly drew her arm into his again, saying: "Pardon, Cousin. But keep away from the Herr Lieutenant's quarters. The fool thinks all is fish that swims near his net. When I learned where you had gone I hurried over to escort you. But there was another thing. I went into your ward to have a look at the wounded airman. The Herr Doktor takes an interest in him."
Belinda trembled suddenly, but she could not easily withdraw her arm now.
"Are you cold?" he asked her solicitously.
"I have thought it best to abandon my warm cape," she replied. "It has the French insignia on it."
"Demand a cloak of our quartermaster, Belinda." He swiftly unhooked the chain of his own enveloping cloak and wrapped it about her.