money in Europe for some consideration to be shown us . . ." the woeful chorus went on.
The choristers were all good and kindly persons, shaken out of the rut of right feeling by the first real fright of their lives. But Troy was too young to understand this, and to foresee that, once in safety, they would become the passionate advocates of France, all the more fervent in their championship because of their reluctant participation in her peril.
("What did I do? Why, I just simply stayed in Paris. . . . Not to run away was the only thing one could do to show one's sympathy," he heard one of the passport-clutchers declare, a year later, in a New York drawing-room.)
Troy, from the height of his youthful indignation, regarded them all as heartless egoists, and fled away into
