He recapitulated in a lightning cerebral flash all that had occurred in less than two weeks. For the first time he realized the great change in his life since Freya had come to the steamer in search of him.
He saw himself in his room in the hotel opposite her, dressed like a man, and looking out over the gulf while smoking.
"I am a German woman, and …"
Her mysterious life, even its most incomprehensible details, was soon to be explained.
She was a German woman in the service of her country. Modern war had aroused the nations en masse; it was not as in other centuries, a clash of diminutive, professional minorities that have to fight as a business. All vigorous men were now going to the battlefield, and the others were working in industrial centers which had been converted into workshops of war. And this general activity was also taking in the women who were devoting their labor to factories and hospitals, or their intelligence on the other side of the frontiers, to the service of their country.
Ferragut, surprised by this outright revelation, remained silent, but finally ventured to formulate his thought.
"According to that, you are a spy?"…
She heard the word with contempt. That was an antiquated term which had lost its primitive significance. Spies were those who in other times,—when only the professional soldiers took part in war,—had mixed themselves in the operations voluntarily or for money, surprising the preparations of the enemy. Nowadays, with the mobilization of the nations en masse, the old official spy—a contemptible and villainous creature, daring death for money—had practically disappeared. Nowadays there only existed patriots—anxious to work for their country, some with weapons in their hands, others availing themselves of their astuteness, or exploiting the qualities of their sex.
Ulysses was greatly disconcerted by this theory.
"Then the doctor?…" he again questioned, guessing; what the imposing dame must be.