“I will give you thirty francs for it,” he said at length.
It was robbery and Elvina knew it, but she did not dare protest.
“I will give you thirty-one,” the other soldier piped up.
“Thirty is what I said,” the Sergeant snapped at him. “It’s not too bad for the pickings from a battlefield.”
“Merci, monsieur,” Elvina murmured. “We are hungry and my man is in no condition to fight his way to the food wagons.”
“He’d be lucky if he got anythin’ if he did,” someone else exclaimed, while another soldier said mockingly,
“Your man! Can’t he find anythin’ bigger and more cuddlesome than a little skeleton like yourself?”
“I look after him all right,” Elvina replied.
There was a laugh at this, but it was good-humoured. The Sergeant handed over the thirty francs. Elvina gave him the gold guine
