“Never mind, it’ll do, and the advice is fine,” said Lucy. With a sigh she added, “Bob got safely out of Archangel only to run into a nest of Boches and try to——”
“—smoke them out,” finished Larry. “But what are you afraid of, Lucy, except of their eluding us? We’ve got the upper hand. Don’t you know we won the war?”
“Sometimes I have to remind myself of it,” declared Lucy soberly. “It’s a queer mixture we live in now—neither war nor peace. I hate that old Franz and never look at him if I can help it, but I go every day to see Adelheid and can’t but like her, poor little thing.” All at once, as they neared the hospital clearing, she asked, “Are you on duty all day to-morrow, Larry?”
“No, in the afternoon I’m free. Why?”
“Nothing at all. Don’t say anything,” said Lucy quickly, with a nervous earnestness that made Larry stare at her almost with anxiety.
“What are you up to, anyhow?” he demanded.
“Something that you’ll have to be up to with me,” said Lucy with sudden resolution.
CHAPTER XI
WITH LARRY’S AID
The morning after the walk in the snow-storm Lucy was alarmed to find Bob pale, tired and strangely preoccupied. He would hardly answer her questions, and his weariness and obvious anxiety were both greater than the events of the day before could explain. Lucy asked him, troubled enough herself without this added vexation: