“Yes, ma cherie,” Jeanne agreed. “That is life, but not for your little Jeanne, not for a long, long time to come.”
“Why? What’s the matter?” Florence was startled.
“A letter from France,” Jeanne explained. “It has followed me days and days. Now it has caught up with me. I must return to France at once. So you see, my dear, it is goodbye. I go east and you go west. Is it not ever so?
“But I shall come back,” her spirits rose. “When the tulips nod gaily and there is the scent of lilacs in the air I shall return. And then—Oh, la—la! Who knows what will happen?”
Next morning on the deck of Jeanne’s ship they clasped hands.
“Goodbye, Florence.”
“Goodbye, Jeanne.”
“Shall we meet again?”
“Who knows?”
And so they parted. Shall they meet again? We can but repeat Florence’s words, “Who knows?” If they do and it is our good fortune to learn of their further adventures you shall read of them in a book to be called, Mystery in Red.