“There are reasons. She is a truly bad woman,” he said briefly.
“I will help you.” On Petite Jeanne’s face was written a great desire. “And these others I will help if I can.
“To do something for others—” she spoke slowly. “To really do things and to love doing them! Ah, there is the key to all true happiness! In the terrible times that are passing, if we have learned this, then it is worth while.”
“Yes,” said Danby Force, taking her slender hand in a solemn grip. “It is worth it.”
“But come!” Jeanne sprang to her feet. “We must find this so important bag.
“Where,” she asked a moment later, “did this lady sleep?”
“In here.” Danby Force led the way to the bunk room.
“In which bunk?” Jeanne insisted.
“I think that one. I can’t be sure.” Danby Force pointed to the darkest corner.
“When we gypsies are camping in tents,” said Jeanne, “when we are afraid of thieves, we put the things we treasure most at the bottom of our bed where no one can touch them without touching our toes.”