courage, and he blinked more quickly than is needed with a healthy eye.
He had been audacious, but he had not surprised the garrison.

"I have no deep reason for liking or disliking him, and you have," she
answered firmly; yet her colour rose slightly, and he thought he had
never seen skin that looked so like velvet-creamy, pink velvet.

"You seemed to think differently at Carillon not long ago," he returned.

"That was an accident," she answered calmly. "He was drunk, and that is
for forgetting--always."

"Always! Have you seen many men drunk?" he asked quickly. He did not
mean to be quizzical, but his voice sounded so, and she detected it.

"Yes, many," she answered with a little ring of defiance in her tone--
"many, often."

"Where?" he queried recklessly.

"In Lebanon," she retorted. "In Lebanon--your side."

How different she seemed from a few moments ago when she stood listening
like a nymph for the song of the Spirit of the Wood! Now she was gay,
buoyant, with a chamois-like alertness and a beaming vigour.

"Now I know what 'blind drunk' means," he replied musingly. "In Manitou
when men get drunk, the people get astigmatism and can't see the
tangledfooted stagger."