This grin was the damper of their stove, and this was
where the maid had kindled the fire which had been roasting them alive,
and was still joyously chuckling to itself. "I think that Munich man was
wrong. I don't believe we beat the Germans in anything. There isn't a
hotel in the United States where the stoves have no front doors, and
every one of them has the space of a good-sized flat given up to the
convenience of kindling a fire in it."
L.
After a red sunset of shameless duplicity March was awakened to a rainy
morning by the clinking of cavalry hoofs on the pavement of the
long-irregular square before the hotel, and he hurried out to see the
passing of the soldiers on their way to the manoeuvres. They were troops
of all arms, but mainly infantry, and as they stumped heavily through the
groups of apathetic citizens in their mud-splashed boots, they took the
steady downpour on their dripping helmets. Some of them were smoking, but
none smiling, except one gay fellow who made a joke to a serving-maid on
the sidewalk. An old officer halted his staff to scold a citizen who had
given him a mistaken direction. The shame of the erring man was great,
and the pride of a fellow-citizen who corrected him was not less, though
the arrogant brute before whom they both cringed used them with equal
scorn; the younger officers listened indifferently round on horseback
behind the glitter of their eyeglasses, and one of them amused himself by
turning the silver bangles on his wrist.
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