It was done so
gravely that Maurice laughed heartily. The wine was the oldest
in Madame's cellar, and Maurice wondered at the Colonel's
temerity in selecting it. The bottles were of thick glass, fat-
bottomed, and ungainly, and Maurice figured that there was more
than a pint in each. It possessed a delicious bouquet. The
Colonel emptied three bottles, with no more effect than if the
wine had been water. Maurice did not appreciate this feat until
he had himself emptied a bottle. It was then he saw that the
boot was likely to be on the other foot.
He looked at the Colonel enviously; the old soldier was a gulf.
He had miscalculated, indeed. But he was fertile in plans, and a
more reasonable one occurred to him. He drank another bottle and
began to talk verbosely. Later he grew confidential. He told the
Colonel a great many things which-- had never happened, things
impossible and improbable. The Colonel listened soberly, and
nodded now and again. Dinner past, they pushed the remains aside
and began to play poker, a game at which the Colonel proved to
be no novice, much to Maurice's wonder.
"Why, you know the game as thoroughly as an Arizona corporal.
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