And he knitted his brows partly with vexation and also in the effort to decide, like a doctor, what remedy he might best apply to my disease.

“Run along and light the fire in my quarters,” he called to a trooper who passed us. “Hurry up; get a move on!”

After which he turned once more to me, and his eyeglass and his peering, myopic gaze hinted an allusion to our great friendship.