Que toujours glorieux,
Louis Victorieux,
Voye ses ennemis
Toujours soumis.”
As the light baritone voice died on the still air, Nancy looked down at him with a smile.
“France scores, this time,” she said. “But what a text for an international alliance! Here we are, three nations sitting under the eaves of the most famous citadel in America, and each claiming as his very own the same national anthem.”
“Oh; but it is generally admitted to belong to us,” Barth added, with unflinching persistence.
The next night, Churchill and the doctor were left alone for a few moments. The doctor held out his hand with a smile.
“Nancy tells me you are open to congratulation, Joe.”
“Yes. That is what brought me up here. I am too fond of you both to be willing to take your congratulations in ink. She is a wonderful girl, Uncle Ross.” The happiness of the young American sat well upon him. In his uncle’s eyes, he gained dignity, even as he spoke those few words. Then he laughed. “You may find yourself in the face of a similar situation,” he suggested.