"It's bath-tubs, and he's only got twenty millions."

"The poor beggar! Well, Meade, if ever she gets within shelling distance
of his little twenty millions they'll melt like a dobey house in the
rain."

"No doubt of that, I guess. And yet--and yet up to late this afternoon,
at least, she appeared to be delighting in the presence of Cadogan."

"She surely did. But"--Major Crupp eyed Meade quizzically--"what are you
worrying about?"

"I'm afraid she hasn't really shook him. I know too much about her. The
twenty millions would be nice to draw upon, but her one unquenchable
passion is man, and in build, looks, age, and temperament Cadogan is
just one rich prize. But how do you account for Cadogan? He's certainly
bright enough in other matters."

Crupp projected three smoke rings across the table at Meade. "I was
stationed in the wilds of the Philippines one time. The native women
where I was were unwashed, bow-legged, black creatures about four feet
high. After three years of it I returned home in a government transport.
I landed in San Francisco. At first I thought it was a dream."

"Thought what was a dream, Major?"

"The women going by. I posted myself on the corner of two streets, and
there I stood transfixed, except every ten minutes or so, when I'd run
into the hotel bar behind me and have another drink. And I'd come out
again, and I'd take another look at those big, beautiful, upstanding
creatures floating by, hosts and hosts of 'em, and I'd whisper to
myself: 'Cruppie, you're dead. You've been boloed on outpost and gone to
heaven, and you don't know it.' And googoo-eyed I kept staring at 'em,
investing every last one of 'em with a double halo, till a long,
splayfooted, thin-necked hombre in a policeman's uniform came along and
says: 'Here, you, I've been pipin' you off for about four hours now.
About time you moved on, ain't it?' Lord, and not one of 'em that
couldn't have married me on the spot, I held 'em in such respect."

"Thick, wasn't he?"

"I thought so--then. But I wonder if Caddie would think we were thick,
too, if we told him to move on? He's just back, remember, from two years
in the jungle, and her eyes haven't changed color and her hair still
shines like a new gold shoulder-knot at dress parade. She is still
beautiful--and clever."

"Clever? She's surely that; but he's only a boy, Major."

"M-m--twenty-six!"

"What's twenty-six? He's still a dreaming boy. I'd like to say what I
really