"Jean—!"
"Maman." The boy came a step into the room. "See, Maman!"
"Hush, Jean." The girl turned to gaze at the woman sitting there with that stony, frozen stare, staying in her eyes.
"Maman, they have taken me at last!"
"Oh," for a second the girl forgot the woman. "But I am proud of you!"
"Maman, I wear the uniform. They will let me go now. I knew they would take me. Sooner or later; I knew they would have to! Aren't you glad?"
The girl remembered and interrupted him.
"Be still, Jean!"
The boy stood looking from one to the other, his eyes straining through the gloom.
"Maman," he whispered.