resistance band

"Bah! I don't care if you're the emperor, or who you are! You're still a man who has to serve his country just like anyone else."

Hugo agreed with this. Heartily, he did. However, the disagreement at hand was not so straightforward as verilated call and response.

"I simply don't believe that espionage is the most efficient way for a conflict to be conducted, let alone resolved. If it must be so that two nations are at war, their leaders must be honest and bold with their actions."

"Honest and bold..." Louis muttered, lip puffed. "Oui, we all would wish it, but that does not change anything! Just as it does not change that you are a short man, so you cannot reach the top shelf. That's why we use tools," he explained with a well-meaningly condescending flourish. "For instance, the noble stepladder."

Hugo curled his fist to his chin, considering the philosophy and ignoring the bait of ad hominem insults. "I suppose it is lofty of me to put myself only in the place of those leaders whose positions it should be to enact change. The people still must live their lives, meanwhile."

"We still must help ourselves. You would not use your lack of height as a crutch, would you?"

Now Hugo did pause, puzzled. This was the second reference. It was not to outlandish to surmise that there might soon be a third. And did Corporal LeBeau not understand?

He didn't wear lifts in his shoes. He didn't posture to overcompensate and cast a vitally different impression. His armor only seemed so bulky in contrast to the slightness of the frame that wore it. Actually, he thought he'd quite enjoy a rustic sweater and felt-wool coat.

But as finest uneminent leader and upindiplomat... "I would not," Hugo returned. "Would you?"

And so Louis LeBeau drew himself up, all of a figurative ten feet tall, to reply, "I never have, and I never will. Vive la France! Vive le grand revolution!"