“You are ver’ fatigué perhaps?”
“No. I had a bully night’s sleep, and I’m ready for anything. We must have a regular party to-day. We’ll paint the town and all the suburbs.”
“Oh, so ver’ fast. I do not onderstan’.... I do not onderstan’. You mus’ speak more slow.... Give me the dictionnaire.”
“It was nothing.... Are you happy?”
“Are you not here?” she said, gravely.
There was something so timid, yet so confident about her, so gentle, so child-womanly, that the realization of it struck Kendall almost with the force of an accusation.... It was the forerunner of self-accusation which might have come then and there, had not Bert and Madeleine turned the corner and waved to them. Immediately the girls were chattering French, after their inevitable formal handshake.
“Where to, children?” asked Bert.
They turned to the girls. “Where are we going?” Ken asked.
“Oh, out of the city. Let us go to the Bois—for the long day.”
“Oui,” agreed Madeleine. “The Bois—every one—tout le monde—make themselves to go to the Bois.”