"The people who've been spreading the gospel of peace for years and years needn't be discouraged now, it seems to me," observed Roger thoughtfully, "even if it does look as if all their talk had been for nothing. These horrors make a bigger appeal than any amount of talk."
"Grandfather Emerson says that perhaps universal peace is going to be the result of the war. It seems far off enough now."
"It will be dearly bought peace."
"Hush, there goes Mademoiselle. I wonder when she's going to sail."
"Why don't you ask her to-day? The Club must give her some kind of send-off, you know."
"I wonder if she'd mind if we went to New York to see her start?"
"It won't be hard to find out. We can tell her that we won't be offended if she says 'No.'"
"If she's willing we might take that opportunity to go over the ship. I've always wanted to go over an ocean steamer."
"Perhaps they won't let anybody do it now on account of the war. It will be great if we can, though."
The Service Club learned more geography in the course of its studies of the war news than its members ever had learned before voluntarily. The approach of the German army upon Paris was watched every day and its advance was marked upon a large map that Roger had installed in the sitting-room. When the Germans withdrew the change of their line and its daily relation to the battle front of the Allies was noted by the watchful pencil of one or another of the newspaper readers.