When you've had a month's campaigning you'll know that the
only things really worth bothering about are supper and bed."
To my great content he immediately fell head over heels into argument
with Master Freake, something about bounties on herring busses, if I
remember aright, and Margaret and I were left to each other, and a rare
treat I had in hearing her lively talk and watching her glowing beauty.
At last, with almost a sigh of satisfaction, and then with a
mischief-glint in her eyes, she said, "The pudding has been very good, but
I prefer ham and eggs, provided that the right person cooks them."
"I should agree," I replied, "with one other proviso."
"To wit," said she, with a glass of wine half-way to her lips.
"That the right person saves them from frizzling to a cinder."
She sipped her wine steadily, and then, leaning forward till the radiance
of her yellow hair made me quiver, she whispered calmly, "Oliver, you're a
brute."
"Nay, madam," said I, "only a yokel."
She looked at me again as she had looked at me when I had kissed her hand
beneath the hawthorns.
"Hello, there," broke in the Colonel, addressing himself to me, "who was
right about the dog's life?"
"I was, of course," said Margaret promptly.
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