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“It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for jests. Now I shall never hear it but what this evening will come pouring back over me. ’ ‘By all means,’ agreed Lucy at once, and ignoring the automatic protest that issued from Roding’s lips, she threw a command over her shoulder as she turned to go. One cannot expect that soldiers can be sympathique to one they believe may be a French spy. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. She herself had cut the slender tie that had bound them.
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