"It's a wild-goose chase," he snapped, attacking his entree savagely.
Heaven knows it was to prove so, even wilder than his dreams could
paint; but if there were geese in it, myself included, there was also to
be a swan.
"You don't really mean that, Dunny," I said firmly, continuing my
dinner. It was a good dinner; we had consulted over each item from
cocktails to liqueurs, and we are both distinctly fussy about food.
"I do mean it!" insisted my guardian. Dunny has the biggest heart in the
world, with a cayenne layer over it, and this layer is always thickest
when I am bound for distant parts. "I mean every word of it, I tell
you, Dev." Dev, like Dunny, is a misnomer; my name is Devereux--Devereux
Bayne. "Don't you risk your bones enough with the confounded games you
play? What's the use of hunting shells and shrapnel like a hero in a
movie reel? We're not in this war yet, though we soon will be, praise
the Lord! And till we are, I believe in neutrality--upon my soul I do."
"Here's news, then!" I exclaimed. "I never heard of it before. Well,
your new life begins too late, Dunny.
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