They were not long in forming a partial answer. It was Jeanne who cried out:
“See this handkerchief. Only a gypsy, a French gypsy, wears one like it.
“And this cigarette case!” she added a moment later. “See! It is from France, too!
“Gypsies, French gypsies!” A note of sorrow crept into her voice. “They have been here. Now they are gone. I wanted to see them, only to hear them speak!”
How little she knew.
“Listen!” The boy held up a hand.
From the nearby shore came the thunder of a speed boat leaving the beach.
“Do gypsies have speed boats?” Jeanne asked in surprise.
“Who knows?” was the boy’s wise answer.
“But where are our friends?”