"No better than this one. . . . Don't you really want to take it? . . ."
She laughed and hesitated. He put it in her hand and kept hold of her hand.
"You would give me such pleasure! . . . Come now, come and sit down. . . ."
He led her to a bench in the middle of the walk that runs about the basin.
"I've something else. . . ."
He brought out of his pocket a chocolate tablet.
"Gourmand! . . . And what besides? . . ."
"Only—I'm ashamed. It's not in its wrapper."
"Give it me, give it! It's just the war."
He looked on as she nibbled.
"It's the first time," said he, "that I've thought the war had any good in it."
"Oh, let's not talk of it! It is so completely overwhelming!"
"Yes," he said, enthusiastic, "we shall never speak of it."
(All of a sudden the atmosphere began to grow lighter.)
