Defenders of Democracy / Contributions from representative men and women of letters and other arts from our allies and our own country, edited by the Gift book committee of the Militia of Mercy

by Militia of Mercy . Gift Book Committee

"He is dead."

"He drank from the well," said Jeanne. "We told him that it was poisoned. But he was so thirsty."

They tried to straighten the little boy, but could not. The Idiot rose to his feet, and looked at her for the first time. He must have made some motion with his hands, for she cried suddenly:

"Don't! You mustn't touch me!"

"We have always loved each other," he said simply.

"You don't understand."

"What have you been through? I understand. Kiss me."

She held him at arm's length.

"Listen," she said. "The old people would not leave the village,—your father and mother…so I stayed. At that time it was still supposed that the Germans were human beings…"

"And my father and mother?" asked the Idiot.