And I swore at the innkeeper for meddling.
As I left the room I smiled at Gretchen, but she did not answer it.
Perhaps I was gone five minutes. In that time I made up my mind to
show the passports, and trust to luck for the rest. When I came back
Gretchen had engrossed their attention. They took no notice of me. I
have never understood how it came about, but all at once the lieutenant
bent forward and kissed Gretchen on the cheek. She started back with a
cry, then looked at me. That swift glance told me what to do. I took
the lieutenant by the collar and flung him into the corner. The
surprise on his face was not to be equaled. Then, as he rose to his
feet, the veins in his neck swelled with rage.
"I'll pay you for that, you meddling beef-eater!" he roared.
"Don't mention it," said I, with an assumption of blandness which I did
not feel. "That was simply gratuitous. It is a sample of what I shall
do to you if you do not immediately ask this lady's pardon for the
gross insult you have just offered her."
"Insult! To kiss a common barmaid an insult!" he yelled, now purpling.
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