The marshal laughed good-humouredly. "The infallible reward of
patience," said he. And O'Moy laughed with him. But the next
moment he was scowling at what he overheard.
"On my soul, that was impudence!" an Irish infantryman had protested.
"Have you ever heard," quoth a heavy dragoon, who was also a heavy
jester, "that in heaven the last shall be first? If you pay court
to an angel you must submit to celestial customs."
"And bedad," rejoined the infantryman, "as there's no marryin' in
heaven ye've got to make the best of it with other men's wives.
Sure it's a great success that fellow should be in paradise. Did
ye remark the way she melted to him beauty swooning at the sight
of temptation! Bad luck to him! Who is he at all?"
They dispersed laughing and followed by O'Moy's scowling eyes. It
annoyed him that his wife's thoughtless conduct should render her
the butt of such jests as these, and perhaps a subject for lewd
gossip. He would speak to her about it later. Meanwhile the marshal
had linked arms with him.
"Since the privilege must be postponed," said he, "suppose that we
seek supper. I have always found that a man can best heal in his
stomach the wounds taken by his heart.
Pages:
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140