Now one commander-in-chief, like Foch, can stop all that."
"I can believe it was necessary and, therefore, best," Lady Agnes said. "Yet I can't stop being sorry—not merely for our general officers, but for our men, too. Poor chaps who come to me; they've fought so finely for England; and now the Boche are boasting they've whipped them and beaten England. They everyone of them are so eager to get well, and go back, and have at them again, and rather show the Boche that they've not—rather show them that England will have them! Now we'll not be under our own command; yet we'll be fighting just the same for England; the Boche shall find that England will have them!"
"You'll have them!" Gerry assured. "And far quicker than you could have before."
Lady Agnes observed him, a little puzzled. "You used 'we' when you spoke of us," she said gently.
Gerry flushed. "I was in your army then," he replied.
"You're fighting with us now—wonderfully, Gerry."
"Yes; but technically you see, Agnes, I'm with my own forces."
He said "my own" with a tone of distinction which surprised himself. His own forces, except for a few comrade pilots, and for those engineers who had grabbed rifles, and got into this battle, and except for those girls—those "awfully good" girls of Picardy—still were only in training in France or holding down quiet sectors in Lorraine. But Gerry had been in one of those sectors which had not been so noted for its tranquillity after "his own" forces had arrived.
