“You won’t get no medal.”
“Oh, yus, I shall though. Me an’ Jakin are the only acting-drummers that’ll be took along. All the rest is full men, an’ we’ll get our medals with them.”
“They might ha’ taken anybody but you, Piggy. You’ll get killed—you’re so venturesome. Stay with me, Piggy, darlin’, down at the Depôt, an’ I’ll love you true forever.”
“Ain’t you goin’ to do that now, Cris? You said you was.”
“O’ course I am, but th’ other’s more comfortable. Wait till you’ve growed a bit, Piggy. You aren’t no taller than me now.”
“I’ve bin in the army for two years an’ I’m not goin’ to get out of a chanst o’ seein’ service an’ don’t you try to make me do so. I’ll come back, Cris, an’ when I take on as a man I’ll marry you—marry you when I’m a Lance.”
“Promise, Piggy?”
Lew reflected on the future as arranged by Jakin a short time previously, but Cris’s mouth was very near to his own.
“I promise, s’elp me Gawd!” said he.
Cris slid an arm round his neck.