“It is necessary, monsieur.”
“And why? Why?”
“Because, monsieur, I love, and I am happy.... I am faithful.... I am very happy.”
He stared, unbelieving. Then, “It is the American officer—this Capitaine Ware?”
“Yes, monsieur.”
“You—you throw it all away for him—for this foreigner? You throw away your chance—your career?... It is absurd, impossible!... But look, mademoiselle. These Americans they do not remain. There is the war. To-morrow, the next day, he may be ordered away—he may be sent back to America.... He will go away from you and leave you lonely.... For a week, a month, will you throw away your life? Oh, mademoiselle, think! It would be terrible.”
She smiled. “It is the first happiness I have known.... I love him, monsieur, and he loves me. We are very happy.... Life is not good. It is very bad, but there may be the little moments of happiness, and they are most sweet. Does monsieur understand? There may be grief and loneliness to follow, but those little moments—they are all of life.... Nothing else is to be considered. It is as you say.... It may be a week, a month, but I would not lose it, not for all you promise me.... And I am constant, I am faithful.... If I must buy my little moments with this career, then I shall pay—oh, so happily. Do you not understand? At all events, one can remember them while life lasts.... They will make a long life sweet.... And so, monsieur, it cannot be. I have considered and I have chosen....”
It was at this moment, the moment when Andree was surrendering her future, passing by the call of Fame and closing her ears to the knock of Opportunity, that Kendall Ware glared at her above the bushes that shut in the front of the café.... It was this moment that he saw—a wonderful, a glowing, a superb moment. He saw a miracle, and his eyes were shut so that it was not apparent to him....
Monsieur Robert was silent for a space, during which one might have told the numbers to twenty, and then he arose, very gravely, dignified now, courtly. He lifted Andree’s hand and bowed over it and his lips touched it in token of respect and of honor.
“Mademoiselle,” he said, quietly, “I have said that I love you.... It is true.... I have seen a great thing, a beautiful thing.... I am proud that I have kissed your hand. From this moment I revere two women—my mother and yourself....”