“Not sometime: now!” he insisted. “I want you more than it’s right for any man to want a girl without getting her.... And what if something should happen to you? My God, I’d never forgive myself!... I ought to get you transferred in spite of General Backett.... I’ll get you a commission.... Or have you made a Field Clerk ... I’ll do something to keep you from going up there!” “Don’t be foolish, sweetheart,” I told him. “I really want to go, for one thing; and also if you made any great effort to get me out of it, you might just get me into trouble.... Better to let well enough alone ... I’ll be back, safe and sound.... Let’s enjoy what little time we have now....” But he was not to be calmed. He kept pacing back and forth, talking impossible things and swearing politely over the way things were going, when he suddenly stopped and burst into smiles. “Comment?” I inquired. “I’ve got it!” he cried gleefully. “Just the thing! My God, but we’re dumb not to think of such a simple way!” He danced a jig of jubilation. “What is it?” I asked. “Have you gone crazy?” “We’ve got to get a license before we do anything else,” he finally explained. “We’ll go to a shop to-morrow and get you outfitted from pate to pied in the chicest apparel a mademoiselle can wear. Then we’ll trip along and visit a mairie somewhere outside of Paris.... Trés bien!” “But how can I use my own name?” I objected, trying to find loopholes in his scheme. “That’s just the reason for going outside the city, chère,” he explained. “We’ll drift out to some little burg and nobody will be the wiser about Miss Leona Canwick, born in Wakeham.” “I wasn’t born in Wakeham.” “Well, wherever you were born—it makes no difference.... And in a few short days from now, we’ll get us hitched tightly together pour la vie!” “Well—” I tried to think of some other objection, but I couldn’t, so we finally agreed to try his plan next day. In the morning I got away long enough to purchase a frock and everything to go with it, from hat to shoes, and had it all sent to the Captain’s rooms, in his name. Then in the afternoon I got away early and met Clark. We had a bite to eat and went to his place, where I made a quick change to the new clothes. He had to run out to get me some rouge and lipstick and face powder, but eventually I looked decent enough to appear on the street. Clark held me at arm’s length and surveyed me critically; then, when he was satisfied, he insisted upon mussing me all up by kissing me and almost crushing me in his arms, so I had to waste more time on my toilette. Finally we set off, but we no more than got out of the door before we bumped into Ben himself, and the look on his face was enough to make a wooden soldier laugh. “Uh—uh—uh—” he tried to speak but succeeded only in gulping and staring the harder at me.