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"Yes, so called. He wa'n't a lieutenant then, he was a clerk, like you or me."

"Oh, yes,--it would be--if it was only iso. Trouble is, you keep remembering he's such a stumbling-block to any real spiritual inquirer. Yes, and to himself; for, you know, spiritually there's so much less hope for the moralist than what there is for the up-and-down reprobate! You know that,--Smith."

My thanks were few and awkward, for there still hung to the missive a basting thread, and it was as warm as a nestling bird. I bent low--everybody was emotional in those days--kissed the fragrant thing, thrust it into my bosom, and blushed worse than Camille.

"Borrowed!" echoed the sergeant. "If he doesn't own that mare no man does."

"Oh, General, if you send an officer they'll see the ruse! I can do it! I'll do it all right!"

"I don't believe you! I don't believe you ever had cause for one!" She laid a hand again upon mine.

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