those in a dentist's show-case, in a smile as she spoke—"to come over this way to help France."
"Perhaps it's only curiosity," muttered Martin.
“On mo. . . . You're too modest. . . . What I mean is that it’s so splendid to have understood the issues. . . . That's how I feel. I just told dad I’d have to come and do my bit, as the English say."
"What are you going to do?"
"Something in Paris. I don’t know just what, but I'll certainly make myself useful somehow." She beamed at him provocatively. "Oh, if only I was a man, I'd have shouldered my gun the first day; indeed I would."
"But the issues were hardly. . .defined then," ventured Martin.
"They didn't need to be. I hate those brutes. I've always hated the Germans, their language, their country, everything about them. And now that they've done such frightful things. . ."
"T wonder if it’s all true. . ."
"True! Oh, of course it's all true; and lots more that it hasn’t been possible to print, that people have been ashamed to tell."
"They've gone pretty far," said Martin, laughing.
"If there are any left alive after the war they ought to be chloroformed. . . . And really I don't think it's patriotic or humane to take the atrocities so lightly. . . . But really, you must excuse me if you think me rude; I
