When I rolled in at an ungodly hour in the morning, Ben was nowhere to be seen. Past breakfast and there was only one thing that could keep him away from his meals: well, maybe he’d quiet down for a while now. I hoped he wouldn’t come back before I got away to-day: I hated to make excuses for running out without him. However, there was no book of etiquette when it came to war. —2— The luncheon engagement went off on schedule and there was a lot of drinking and talking, but I didn’t drink much and there wasn’t a great deal that I could talk about, so I just played the bashful boy and let the Captain do the vocal work. Our hostess did ask me if I was enjoying my stay in Paris, to which I replied, as sincerely as possible, “I’ve really enjoyed meeting you and your friends far more than anything else.” “Isn’t that sweet of you?” she said. “You do say the nicest things. I’m afraid you are understudying that gallant gentleman across from me,” indicating the Captain. “Is that not so, Captain?” “Not a very good example,” laughed the Captain. “Well—” she went on, smiling at us in turn, “I feel it my duty to say that if he follows in your footsteps in this city, he won’t for long be the sweet innocent boy that he is now.... You know, Sergeant, the Captain is really notorious.... He’s responsible for more than half the female suicides in the Seine!” “Barking dogs seldom bite,” I observed, with a smile, although I didn’t feel like smiling. “Perhaps the Captain doesn’t do as much damage as it seems he should.... Some of the greatest swordsmen very seldom really fight, you know.” “Bravo!” exclaimed the Madame. “I guess you’re not as innocent as you look. Perhaps we’d better wait until you have demonstrated before we reach any conclusions. Yes, Captain?” “It’s these quiet little devils who are the real devils,” declared my companion, winking at me. “I can think of any number of men who are perfectly devastating in a drawing-room but——” “Yes...?” she encouraged him, laughing that tinkling silver laugh that was so delightful. “Why—in a boudoir, it’s a different matter,” the Captain finished lamely. “I think you need another little stimulant,” declared the Madame promptly. “Your conversational courage is not up to scratch....” She procured another bottle of something and set it at his elbow. Then while he opened it, she remarked, “What you meant to say, I believe, Captain, was the same as General Bargrave said the other evening: that you can’t judge a man’s bed manners by his table manners.” We all laughed at that frank bon mot and the Captain replied in kind, “I’ve known lovely ladies to prove false alarms, too.” “Touché!” cried the lady—and I fell to wondering whether she meant that he meant her or was just acknowledging a good thrust at women in general. From what he told me, he had never investigated this woman personally; she couldn’t be much of a false alarm, if he still would like to gain her favor.