“Herr Doctor, I have been on the western front, up on the lines, for many months, and I have seen much, too much ever to permit me to grow sentimental about ‘the poor German nation that had nothing to do with the war,’ that was opposed to the war, and refused to fight, but let the Kaiser fight it out all by himself.” Grace laughed, and her laugh took the sting out of her words, but they went home to the heart of the Herr Doctor, and his face reddened.
“I have admitted that our rulers were in error; I do not admit that the German people were at fault. They were forced into the war,” he answered stiffly.
“And forced out of it,” retorted Grace. “Pardon me, but I should not have said so much. When I hear Germans glibly throwing off their own responsibility for the wounding and killing of several million men I am inclined to be irritable. Suppose we drop the subject and not refer to it again. When did you leave the service, Doctor?”
“I—I—why, what made you think I had been in the service?” he parried.
“Your walk. You have been in the German army. At times you forget yourself and lapse into the goose-step. There I go again. That was too personal. I ask your pardon.”
“You are a keen woman, Frau Gray. I served my time in the army when a young man, as all good Germans have done—”
Grace interrupted him with a merry laugh.
“Thank you for the compliment. Thank you for admitting the truth of all that I have said about the German people. Of course there is nothing personal, unless one chooses to assume it, in what I have said. We part on the best of terms, do we not, Herr Doctor?” urged Grace, pausing and extending her hand.
Doctor Klein bowed stiffly over it. He appeared to be somewhat dazed over her rapid-fire conversation.
Grace backed away and saluted. She was answered by the stiff military salute of the German officer. The doctor flushed as he realized that he had again been caught napping by a woman. The Overton girl smiled a guileless happy smile, and turning she walked rapidly away.