ival. Her answer was, "He's well enough to raise a handsome row if he saw you and me together."
He grumbled a full double-barreled oath and did not apologize for it. She spoke coldly:
"You'd better go back to your seat."
She was as severe as a woman can well be with a man who adores her and writhes with jealousy of a man she adores.
"I'll be good, Teacher," he said. "Was he over there with you?"
She evidently liked to talk about her husband. She brightened as she spoke. "Yes, for a while. He drove a motor-ambulance, you know, but it bored him after a month or two. They wouldn't let him up to the firing-lines, so he quit. Have you seen him?"
"Once or twice."
"He's looking well, isn't he?"
"Yes, confound him! His handsome features have been my ruin."
She could smile at that inverted compliment. But Dyckman began to think very hard. He was suddenly confronted with one of the conundrums in duty which life incessantly propounds--life that squats at all
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