"The thing for which France stands—; and conquers."
He seized at her last word.
"Conquers? Of course she conquers. And I will help! I will kill the Boches. Right and left. I shall fight until France will win!"
A strange light had filtered into the woman's heavily lidded eyes.
"Bravo!" The girl clapped her hands together. "And shall we have our supper now, petite Maman, and my little rabbit?"
"Maman—when I have this uniform—"
"Go, children. In a moment I will be with you."
"Come, my cauliflower. Maman would be alone."
"Maman—"
"Jean—I do not mean to tease. Let us go in to supper. If I do not try to be pleasant I shall weep. You would not have me weep, brother Jean? I would wet the pretty shoulder of your uniform with my tears. That would be a tragedy. So come along to supper, my rascal."