"Ah, Mademoiselle Sophie," said the Zouave, in his most dulcet tone, "you—mon Dieu—you look so lovely that——"
"That what—what—Jules?"
"Well, so lovely this morning that I am quite afraid——"
"To kiss me—is it not so, Monsieur Jolicoeur?"
"Yes."
"Très bien. Take courage, mon camarade."
"Mademoiselle Sophie, you quiz me!"
"A Zouave, and afraid," exclaimed the vivandière; and then followed a little sound there was no mistaking.
"You are indeed beautiful, Sophie. There is not a vivandière in the whole French army like you."
"Yet I may die an old maid," said she demurely.