"It is not easily pardoned here," he answered.
"People don't make allowances?"
"Not officers," he said, with a smile. "Soldiers lose the character of men, when on duty; they are only reckoned machines."
"You do not mean that exactly, I suppose."
"Indeed I do!" he said, with another slighter coruscation. "Intelligent machines, of course, and with no more latitude of action. You would not like that life?"
"I should think you would not."
"Ah, but we hope to rise to the management of the machines, some day."
I thought I saw in his face that he did. I remarked that I thought the management of machines could not be very pleasant.
"Why not?"