Peggy plunged at once into facts.
“It may seem strange, my coming to you; but the fact is that my cousin, Monsieur Trevor, is severely wounded….”
“Mon Dieu!” said Jeanne.
“And his friend, Mr. McPhail, who is also wounded, thinks that if you—well——”
Her French failed her—to carry off a very delicate situation one must have command of language—she could only blurt out—“Il faut comprendre, mademoiselle. Il a fait beaucoup pour vous.”
She met Jeanne’s dark eyes. Jeanne said:
“Oui, madame, vous avez raison. Il a beaucoup fait pour moi.”
Peggy flushed at the unconscious correction—“beaucoup fait” for “fait beaucoup.”
“He has done not only much, but everything for me, madame,” Jeanne continued. “And you who have come from England expressly to tell me that he is wounded, what do you wish me to do?”
“Accompany me back to London. I had a telegram this morning to say that he had arrived at a hospital there.”