The expression of the eyes, which had never left his, changed slightly. The wordless, languageless message they were exchanging with his own was interrupted. "Ah," she said in a voice of sympathy. "You come from the battle? From the Marne?"
"Yes, madame. We were on the Ourcq. Since then, on the Aisne."
Her face lit up.
"But certainly! Who would refuse anything to the brave men who have saved France! You will excuse the coolness of your reception, Monsieur le colonel? We have had other guests—less welcome." The colonel thought of the broken chain on the gate. "Marie!" This to the old woman who stood by the door, shading the candle in her hand, incongruous in this luxurious apartment. "Place the large dining-room at the disposition of messieurs les officiers. The kitchen also." She turned again to the colonel. "I can offer only ten bedrooms to your officers, Monsieur le colonel, but doubtless they can arrange themselves. The stables are large, there are three barns and a disused mill, and there is a loft at the top of the house. I hope you will find room for all your men. There is plenty of straw in the barns. They may use it freely. Please consider the house entirely at your disposition." And all this time the eyes were talking wordlessly. And his, although he knew it not, were replying.
"You are too kind, madame!"
"It is a happy privilege, Monsieur le colonel!"
His business was finished, yet he felt curiously unwilling to go, much though awaited him to do. His apology seemed addressed as much to his own hidden inner self as to her.
"Mille remerciments, madame! You will excuse me if I withdraw? My men are very tired. Once more, a thousand thanks, madame——?"
She answered his unuttered question, a smile lighting up eyes and face.