"
"Writing novels is too much like work. But I'm serious. Your
position in the world to-day is nearly equal to hers, and
certainly more secure. Ah, yes; I must not forget that prince.
He's a lucky dog--and so are you, for that matter. Millions and
titles! And I have slapped you cavalierly on the back, smoked
your cigars, drunk your whisky, and beaten you at poker!"
comically.
"Ah, Maurice, it is neither wealth nor titles; it is freedom. I
am like a boy out of school for good and all. Women, the society
of women, who are the salt of earth; that is what I want. I have
knocked out thirteen years of my life in furnace holes, and have
not met nor spoken to a dozen young women in all that time. How
I envy you! You know every one; you have seen the world;. you
are at home in Paris, or London, or Vienna; you have enjoyed all
I wish to enjoy."
"Why did you ever get into the army?"
"You ought to know."
"But it was bread and butter to me."
"Well, I was young; I saw fame and glory. If the matter under
hand is closed to-morrow, what do you say to the Carpathians and
bears? I shall not remain here; some one will be looking for
blood.
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