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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"Arms and the Woman"

I shall kill
you," complacently.
"Think of my family," said I, a strange humor taking possession of me.
"You should have thought of your family before you struck me that
blow," he replied.
My laughter was genuine; even Gretchen smuggled a smile. The
lieutenant had taken my remark in all seriousness.
"You will not run away?" he asked.
"I shall probably be obliged to run away to-morrow," said I, smoothly.
"I should not be able to account for your presence here. But I shall
await your return from the barracks, never fear." All this was mere
bravado; honestly, I shrunk within my clothes and shivered in my shoes.
But I had an unfailing mental nerve. Some call it bluff.
Gretchen had been whispering to the innkeeper. When he moved from her
side, she was smiling.
"What the deuce is she smiling about?" I wondered. "Does the woman
take me for a modern D'Artagnan?"
"Innkeeper," said the lieutenant, "if this man is not here when I
return, I'll take satisfaction out of your hide."
The innkeeper shrugged. "I have never heard of an Englishman running
away."
"And I have seen many a German do that," I put in.


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