She simply waived the theme: "Let's talk of something pleasant,
if you don't mind."

"Something pleasant, eh? Then I can't ask about--him, I suppose."

"Of course. Why not?"

"How is the hound?--begging the pardon of all honest hounds."

She was too sure of her own feelings toward her husband to feel it
necessary to rush to his defense--against a former rival. Her answer
was, "He's well enough to raise a handsome row if he saw you and me
together."

He grumbled a full double-barreled oath and did not apologize for it.
She spoke coldly:

"You'd better go back to your seat."

She was as severe as a woman can well be with a man who adores her
and writhes with jealousy of a man she adores.

"I'll be good, Teacher," he said. "Was he over there with you?"

She evidently liked to talk about her husband. She brightened as
she spoke. "Yes, for a while. He drove a motor-ambulance, you know,
but it bored him after a month or two. They wouldn't let him up to
the firing-lines, so he quit. Have you seen him?"