teeth.

The dinner was not a pronounced success, in spite of Faversham's
avoidance of any awkward topic. They sat at the long table in the big,
desolate and shabby room, lighted only by a couple of tallow candles
set up in their candlesticks upon the cloth. And the two junior
officers maintained an air of chilly reserve and seldom spoke except
when politeness compelled them. Faversham himself was absorbed, the
burden of entertainment fell upon Captain Plessy. He strove nobly, he
told stories, he drank a health to the "Camaraderie of arms," he drew
one after the other of his companions into an interchange of words, if
not of sympathies. But the strain told on him visibly towards the end
of the dinner. His champagne glass had been constantly refilled, his
face was now a trifle overflushed, his eyes beyond nature bright, and
he loosened the belt about his waist and at a moment when Faversham
was not looking the throat buttons of his tunic. Moreover while up
till now he had deprecated any allusions to his reputation he now
began to talk of it himself; and in a particularly odious way.

"A reputation, Lieutenant, it has its advantages," and he blew a kiss
with his fingers into the air to designate the sort of advantages to
which he referred. Then he leaned on one side to avoid the candle
between Faversham and himself.

"You are English, my Commandant?" he asked.

"My mother was German," replied Faversham.

"But you are English yourself. Now have you ever met in England a
certain Miss Marian Beveridge," and his leer was the most disagreeable