The chairs which formed my bed were under the lee of
the table, so that the figure recumbent on them was invisible, and the
gallant soldier, under the impression that there was no one in the
room, enforced his arguments by other than conventional means. But
military lips, when applied personally, proved to be a rhetoric as
unsuccessful as military words. The maid was platonic, and something
more than platonic; and the hero got so much the worst of it, that he
gave up the battle, and changed the subject to a conscript in his
charge, who had locked himself in his bed-room and would not answer.
How was he to know whether he had the conscript safe? All this lasted
some time; and when they were gone, one of the _pensionnaires_ came
in. With him I had to fight the battle of the window, which I had
opened to its farthest extent. After he had got over the first
surprise and shock of finding me on the chairs instead of in the bed,
for whose comfort he vouched enthusiastically, he became confident
that it was merely out of complaisance to him and his comrade that I
had opened the window, and assured me that they really did not care
for fresh air, even if they could feel the difference in the alcove,
which he declared they could not.
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