ged workers, elderly orderlies in pathetic bits of uniform that
might have dated from 1870, wheeling packages in and out, groups
talking of the business of the organization, here and there a
blue-vested young lieutenant and a blue-overalled packer, talking--it
did not need God to know of what. But neither of the two women heeded
this multitude.

Jeanne said: "Madame, I am profoundly moved by what you have told me.
If I show little emotion, it is because I have suffered greatly from
the war. One learns self-restraint, madame, or one goes mad. But as
you have spoken to me in your noble English frankness--I have only to
confess that I love Doggie with all my heart, with all my soul----"
With her two clenched hands she smote her breast--and Peggy noted it
was the first gesture that she had made. "I feel the infinite need,
madame--you will understand me--to care for him, to protect him----"

Peggy raised a beautifully gloved hand.

"Protect him?" she interrupted. "Why, hasn't he shown himself to be a
hero?"

Jeanne leant forward and grasped the protesting hand by the wrist; and
there was a wonderful light behind her eyes and a curious vibration in
her voice.

"It is only _les petits heros tout faits_--the little ready-made
heroes--ready made by the _bon Dieu_--who have no need of a woman's
protection. But it is a different thing with the great heroes who have
made themselves without the aid of a _bon Dieu_, from little dogs of
no account (_des petits chiens de rien du tout_) to what Doggie is at
the moment. The woman then takes her place. She fixes things for ever.
She alone can understand."

Peggy gasped as at a new Revelation. The terms in which this French
girl expressed herself were far beyond the bounds of her philosophy.
The varying aspects in which Doggie had presented himself to her, in
the past few months, had been bewildering. Now she saw him, in a fresh
light, though as in a glass darkly, as reflected by Jeanne. Still, she
protested again, in order to see more clearly.

"But what would you protect him from?"

"From want of faith in himself; from want of faith in his destiny,
madame. Once he told me he had come to France to fight for his soul.
It is necessary that he should be victorious. It is necessary that the
woman who loves him should make him victorious."

Peggy put out her hand and touched Jeanne's wrist.

"I'm glad I didn't marry Doggie, mademoiselle," she said simply. "I
couldn't have done tha