They laughed at him, and he looked a little hurt, apparently unable to see anything humorous in his cheerful promise.
Dalrymple was aware of these conferences, for he was frequently about the regimental area. George wasn't surprised, when he sat alone one night, to hear a tap on his window pane, to see Dalrymple's face at the window.
"Hesitate to disturb a major, and all that," Dalrymple said as he entered. "Two rooms. You're lucky."
"Not luck; work," George said, shortly. "What is it? Didn't come here to envy my rank, did you?"
Although he was in far better shape nervously and physically than he had been that day in George's office, Dalrymple bore himself with much the same confused and hesitant manner. It recalled to George the existence of the note which the other had made no effort to redeem.
"You know," Dalrymple began, vaguely, "there's a lot of—what do you call it—bunk—about this hurrah for the dear old soldier business. Fact is, the more chance there is of a man's getting blown up the nastier some people become."
George laughed shortly.
"You mean when you owe them money."
"As Driggs used to say," Dalrymple answered, "'you're a very penetrating person.'"
He hesitated, then went on with an increasing difficulty: