shoulder. "Teddy,
you--you Spitzbube you!" She laughed at that, a little hysterically.
"Not that I know what a Spitzbube is, but it's the Germanest word I
can think of." That shaven head. Those trousers. That linen. The awful
boots. The tie! "Oh, Teddy, and you're the Germanest thing I ever saw."
She kissed him again, rapturously.

He kissed her, too, wordlessly at first. They moved aside a little, out
of the crowd. Then he spoke for the first time.

"God! I'm glad to see you, Fanny." There was tragedy, not profanation
in his voice. His hand gripped hers. He turned, and now, for the
first time, Fanny saw that at his elbow stood a buxom, peasant woman,
evidently a nurse, and in her arms a child. A child with Molly Brandeis'
mouth, and Ferdinand Brandeis' forehead, and Fanny Brandeis' eyes, and
Theodore Brandeis' roseleaf skin, and over, and above all these,
weaving in and out through the whole, an expression or cast--a vague,
undefinable thing which we call a resemblance--that could only have come
from the woman of the picture, Theodore Brandeis' wife, Olga.

"Why--it's the baby!" cried Fanny, and swung her out of the nurse's
protesting arms. Such a German-looking baby. Such an adorably
German-looking baby. "Du kleine, du!" Fanny kissed the roseleaf cheek.
"Du suszes--" She turned suddenly to Theodore. "Olga--where's Olga?"

"She did not come."

Fanny tightened her hold of the little squirming bundle in her arms.
"Didn't come?"

Theodore shook his head, dumbly. In his eyes was an agony of pain. And
suddenly all those inexplicable things in his face were made clear to
Fanny. She placed the little Mizzi in the nurse's arms again. "Then
we'll go, dear. They won't be a minute over your trunks, I'm sure. Just
follow me."

Her arm was linked through Theodore's. Her hand was on his. Her head
was up. Her chin was thrust out, and she never knew how startlingly she
resembled the Molly Brandeis who used to march so bravely down Norris
street on her way to Brandeis' Bazaar. She was facing a situation, and
she recognized it. There was about her an assurance, a composure, a
blithe capability that imparted itself to the three bewildered and
helpless ones in her charge. Theodore felt it, and the strained look
in his face began to lift just a little. The heavy-witted peasant woman
felt it, and trudged along, cheerfully. The baby in her arms seemed to
sense it, and began to converse volubly and unintelligibly with the blue
unifor