"You've a son over in France?" he ventured.
"No, unfortunately. But if I had a thousand sons, I'd disown them one and all if they weren't over there. Once upon a time white men worshiped many gods. To-day where are they? To-morrow we shall laugh when one speaks of kings. The Teuton idea did not invade Belgium so much as it dug its own grave.... Oh, if I were a man!"
Mathison smiled—something he hadn't expected ever to do again! He asked her what she was doing alone in this part of the world. She had had a nervous breakdown in the spring, and her doctor had advised her to take a long sea voyage.
"And where else could I take a sea voyage? I always wanted to see India, China, Japan. I suppose you are going back to enlist?"
"No, I am going home to fight. I am already in the service."
"What arm?"
"The navy. I have been transferred to the Atlantic," he admitted, frankly. "I'm to command a destroyer in British waters."
"Splendid! And you are traveling in mufti?"
"A special dispensation." He sought a safer channel. "You are rather brave, to tour this part of the world these days."
"Gray hairs go safely anywhere. Besides, I've a French maid who is something of a grenadier. I am not afraid of anything ... except ghosts!"