Well, your report.
The Sergeant
My Colonel, wood and shore we’ve searched since dawn,
And twenty bitter rogues we’ve found, no less!
They crouched behind the tall grey stones, or lay
Prone in the furze, or knelt at Calvaries!
Two women remain—
[He stares at Yvette and Séraphine.
Séraphine
O Saint Thégonnec!