"He knew me in New York," the girl whispered. "In the hospital there."
"And has said nothing?"
"Hush! No. But he could ruin me—and you, too—with a word."
"Why doesn't he?" her cousin asked sternly.
"Oh, Paul! I seem to be bewitched. They all want to make love to me."
"The Herr Doktor?" he growled. "Herr Gott!"
"He is worse than any of you," she almost sobbed. "He haunted me at the hospital in New York. I was so glad to escape him when I got through there. And I confess one reason why I came to France was to escape Doctor Herschall's attentions. And here he is!"
"Ah!" said Paul morosely. "And this dog of a flying-man, Gessler. Has he fallen before you, too?"
"Hush, Paul! You make me feel horrid. Can I help it if all of you men are children? The wounded aviator is a gentleman. He does not offend me, at least."
"No?" and he watched her gloomily as they walked on.