Ken felt that the situation demanded something of him; that if he did not prove himself adequate to the demand he would sink in his own estimation and take a lower place in the regard of both the girls. It was awkward. No situation could be more awkward, but a thing was required of him if he desired to be true to himself and worthy of the love that Andree had given him.
“By God! I do!” he said, desperately, and had his reward in the depths of the smile which came into Andree’s eyes....
There threatened to come an uncomfortable pause, but Andree averted it.
“Monsieur Ken and I go soon for the déjeuner. Mademoiselle, of course, comes also.”
“I wish I might,” said Maude, her voice a trifle dulled and her eyes not altogether happy. “But I promised to help out in the club on the Avenue Montaigne.... And I must be going.” She looked at her wrist watch. “Indeed I must. I can cross the street now.... Good-by, Captain Ware. Good-by, mademoiselle.”
“Au revoir,” said Andree, holding out her hand. “We mus’ meet again. There are many theengs we mus’ speak of.”
Maude looked down into Andree’s dark-shadowed black eyes and smiled. “Yes,” she said, “we must speak of many things....”
CHAPTER XXII
In the morning Paris stopped in groups to whisper and to point off to the northeastward. Paris was apprehensive. It had been awakened before dawn by the distant rumble of cannon, such a rumble as had never before come to its ears, and it wanted to know the reason for it. The guns had never sounded so loudly. Was it that the boches had made a fresh advance and were by that much nearer to the defenses of the city? Or had it been some huge air raid turned abortive before it reached its objective?... It was the 15th of July.
Slowly, by devious channels, the news spread. The enemy had struck again, had launched such a blow as warfare had not seen up to this period.... And Paris waited for the outcome. Then dull explosions were heard in various parts of the city at regular intervals.... Big Bertha was at her work again; the long-range cannon was once more bombarding Paris. As in the days past, one might see wagons loaded high with trunks and personal belongings moving toward a gate of the city or toward a railway station as the more apprehensive abandoned their homes for places of greater security. These were days when it was impossible to find tenants for the top floors of apartment-houses. There was a feeling that one was safer from Bertha and the bomb with at least one étage between him and the roof....