“No! No!” The French woman was on her feet. “I have urgent business. I was about to go. It is good to have seen you—” She bowed to Mary and was gone.
“Will you forgive me.” The girl in khaki dropped into a seat. “I just had to do it. I never saw that woman before. She may be all right. You never know. Over here half the people are for us, the other half against. You dare trust no one. You didn’t—” She hesitated.
“I didn’t tell her a thing worth knowing.” Mary smiled. “Will you have a cup of coffee?”
“Oh, sure!” The other girl’s face beamed. “Real American girls are so rare here.”
“You are a WAC?” Mary suggested.
“Yes, of course. There are very few of us here now, but there will be more and more.” Her voice dropped. “That’s the sort of things they want to know,” she confided in a whisper.
They talked, sipped coffee, and munched cakes until Sparky hurried into the place.
“All set!” he exclaimed. “Our outfit is still far ahead of us. Got to get going.”
After Mary had introduced Lucy Merriman, the WAC, they were on their way.
“I’ll be seeing you,” Mary called back. Then she added in an undertone, “I wonder.”