C."
"Foolish of them," Weldon commented. "Still, 'If we could choose the
time, and choose aright, 'T were best to die, our honor at the
height.' I learned that when I was a small boy; but I've only just
found out what it means."
With scoffing lips, but eyes full of unspoken love, Carew turned on
his friend.
"Don't dodder, Weldon," he counselled him. "That's canting drivvle,
made to console the unsuccessful. No man knows when he has reached
his high-water mark. Yours may have come on the day you licked
Stevie Ballard for gilding the tailless cat; it may not come till
you are ninety."
"No." The syllable was quiet, deliberate. Then Weldon roused himself
and sat up to speak with sudden energy. "Promise me this, Carew,
that while the matter is hanging fire, you won't mention this V. C.
business to any one."
Carew stared at him in unmixed surprise.
"What's the matter now?" he asked blankly.
"Nothing, only that I want you to promise."
"Not to--"
"Not to a living soul."
"Why? What's the use?"
"No use, but my wish. If it comes off, let it be as a joyous
surprise. If it misses fire, as it quite well may, then there'll be
no harm done.
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