"A year ago ... thank you ... thank you ... a year ago is the war for America."
"A year ago since we went into the war!" exclaimed some one. "Can it be possible?"
There followed toasts to Greece, and Serbia, and America, and President Wilson, and finally to Danilo.
"That Danilo," Lycurgus informed the party—"that Danilo—he saved my life. Now he can have everything I own. If I were dead, nothing would be of any use. So now I give him everything ... you understand?—everything!"
Claire stared—she was not yet accustomed to the Oriental extravagances which crept so naturally into the speech of Lycurgus.
Altogether it was a happy time, in spite of the shadow of world-wide tragedy that lay in wait just beyond the truant light of personal cheer.
"You've made a hit, Robson!" Nellie Whitehead assured her at the conclusion of the evening. "But how in Heaven's name could you listen to all that Serbia stuff?... Dope about the little, old U.S.A. is good enough for me.... But say, he isn't so bad-looking. If I didn't have Billy on my staff I do believe...." She finished with a wink and gave Claire a playful shove.
On her way home that night Claire said to herself, "I'll have to look up some books on Serbia at the library."