“Oh, yes, it will do. The war will soon be over and I shall go back to my beloved France. Bah! These Germans! I like them not.”
“None of us do, Marie. Is Miss Marshall with Madame?” asked Grace carelessly. Marie gave her a quick glance, a keener glance than Grace had ever seen from those eyes, after which the eyes lapsed into their former dullness.
“I have not seen her since yesterday. I do not know. Do you know her?”
Grace said she did not, and giving Marie a smile, stepped behind the counter and began her work as a canteen server. It was not the free life of the ambulance driver, but it was service, and Grace Harlowe was satisfied. But there was plenty of excitement ahead of her, even though life moved on in Coblenz much the same as before and during the war. Shopkeepers were overcharging the American soldiers, others were robbing them, and the situation was lax to an extent that disturbed Grace Harlowe.
She said as much to Major Colt, who called at the canteen that evening to see her, and he agreed with the Overton girl, but said that the American officers were awakening to the possibilities and that something would be done. The major told Grace of his experience with the Germans after they dragged him from the Rhine, she in turn relating her own. He told of having seen her signal and of reading the message, and he was filled with admiration for Grace’s resourcefulness and cleverness.
“I told Captain Boucher about that. He declared that you ought to be in the Secret Service and that he was going to have you there if his advice prevailed with those higher up. How would you like that?”
“Not at all,” answered Grace smilingly. “Is the captain still disturbed over the activities of spies with the Army of Occupation?”
Major Colt flashed a quick glance at her.
“So, you do know about it, eh?”
“Perhaps I may have surmised some things, sir—and I know the Hun and his ways rather well,” she added. “May I ask you, sir, if you know a Miss Marshall who entered camp the day before we went up?”