"Do you think that we shall reach Algiers to-morrow, Monsieur?"
"I hope not, Mademoiselle."
Miss Redmond turned her fine eyes on him.
"You hope not?"
"I should like this voyage to last forever, Mademoiselle."
"How ridiculous!"
Her look was so frank that he laughed in spite of himself, and instead of following up the politeness, he asked:
"Why do you think of Algiers as a field for nursing the sick, Mademoiselle?"
"There has been quite a deputation of the Red Cross women lately going from Paris to the East."
"But," said the young man, "there are poor in Tarascon, and sick, too. There is a great deal of poverty in Nice, and Paris is the nearest of all."