the skin of my teeth. Read me that riddle, Wickham Brand!"
"It's easy," said Brand. "The fellow was pulled two ways. By duty and—sentiment."
"Love," said Eileen in her candid way.
"Love, if you like. . . . It was a conflict. Probably his sense of duty (I know these German officers!) was strong enough to make him hand up the papers to his superior officers. He couldn't bring himself to burn them—the fool! Then the other emotion in him"
"Give it a name," said Eileen, smiling in her whimsical way.
"That damned love of his," said Brand, "tugged at him intolerably, and jabbed at his conscience. So he hid the news about the passage, and thought what a fine fellow he was. Mr. Facing-Both-Ways. Duty and love, both sacrificed!. . . He'd have looked pretty sick if you'd been shot, and it wasn't to his credit that you weren't."
Eileen O'Connor was amused with Brand's refusal to credit Franz von Kreuzenach with any kindness.
"Admit," she said, "that his suppression of evidence gave me my chance. If all were told, I was lost."
Brand admitted that.
"Admit also," said Eileen, "that he behaved like a gentleman."
Brand admitted it grudgingly.
"A German gentleman."
Then he realised his meanness, and made amends.
"That's unfair! He behaved like a good fellow. Probably took big risks. Everyone who knows what happened must be grateful to him. If I meet him I'll thank him."
Eileen O'Connor held Brand to that promise, and asked him for a favour which made him hesitate.
