"Don't go out to-night, Jack."
He kissed her uplifted face; "You know I must; don't make it hard for me."
"But when I hear the shells and—and know you are out in the city—"
"But they all fall in Montmartre—"
"They may all fall in the Beaux Arts; you said yourself that two struck the Quai d'Orsay—"
"Mere accident—"
"Jack, have pity on me! Take me with you!"
"And who will there be to get dinner?"
She rose and flung herself on the bed.
"Oh, I can't get used to it, and I know you must go, but I beg you not to be late to dinner. If you knew what I suffer! I—I—cannot help it, and you must be patient with me, dear."