The former looked up at him brightly, eagerly as he planted
himself between them with his back to the cheerful blaze.
"Did you see him?" she inquired. He was struck by the deep, straining
look in her dark eyes,--as if she were searching for something far
back in his brain.
"Yes," he replied, as he took his pipe and tobacco pouch from his
pocket. "He was up and around the room and was as pleased as Punch
to see me." He began stuffing the bowl of the pipe. "He is a most
attractive chap, Alix. I don't know when I've met a more agreeable
fellow."
"Then you had not met before,--over there?"
"No. We missed each other by days on two or three occasions. He
left for the Vosges just before I got to Pont-a-Mousson, and was
transferred to another section when we all went up to Bar le Duc
at the time of the Verdun drive. He joined the Ambulance several
months before I did, and was shifted about a good deal. Had some
trouble with a French officer at Pont-a-Mousson and asked to be
transferred." Here he smiled feelingly. "He's got a mustard plaster
on his back now, he says, that would cover an army mule. I know
how that feels, by Jinks! I wore one for three weeks over there
because I didn't have the nerve to rip it off."
He was still aware of the unanswered question in her eyes. Changing
his position slightly, he busied himself with the lighting of his
pipe.
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