“Well, my dear cousin, I was recalled to the garrison.
“And where is that, if you please? and why did not you come to say farewell?”
“At Queue-en-Brie.”
Phoebus was delighted with the first question, which helped him to avoid the second.
“But that is quite close by, monsieur. Why did you not come to see me a single time?”
Here Phoebus was rather seriously embarrassed.
“Because — the service — and then, charming cousin, I have been ill.”
“Ill!” she repeated in alarm.
“Yes, wounded!”