Then dropping his voice and speaking in English, "As for me, I shall go out with the ambulance to-morrow morning. There is of course no danger, but it's just as well to keep it from Sylvia."
West nodded. Thorne and Guernalec, who had heard, broke in and offered assistance, and Fallowby volunteered with a groan.
"All right," said Trent rapidly,—"no more now, but meet me at Ambulance headquarters to-morrow morning at eight."
Sylvia and Colette, who were becoming uneasy at the conversation in English, now demanded to know what they were talking about.
"What does a sculptor usually talk about?" cried West, with a laugh.
Odile glanced reproachfully at Thorne, her fiancé.
"You are not French, you know, and it is none of your business, this war," said Odile with much dignity.
Thorne looked meek, but West assumed an air of outraged virtue.
"It seems," he said to Fallowby, "that a fellow cannot discuss the beauties of Greek sculpture in his mother tongue, without being openly suspected."
Colette placed her hand over his mouth and turning to Sylvia, murmured, "They are horridly untruthful, these men."