“Perhaps. I believe so,” said the elder sister.
“Then we shan’t get the toys from Paris?” said the small girl.
“I am afraid not, coquine?”
“What a pity!” said the boy.
Pierre Nesle took a step forward and saluted.
“I will go with you, if you permit it, mademoiselle. It is perhaps in a little way my duty, as I met your father in the war.”
“Thanks a thousand times,” said the girl. “Maman will be glad to know all you can tell her.”
She waved to Brand a merry au revoir.
We stood watching them cross the Grande Place, that tall girl and the two little ones, and Pierre.
Fortune touched Brand on the arm.