tion that faded out again as they heard the story oftener.
After all, Mrs. Belknap wasn't the only person who had seen a battlefield! Lots and lots more were pouring home all the time with fresh tales of tragedy: the Marne had become—in a way—an old story. People wanted something newer . . . different. . . .
And then, why hadn't Joffre followed up the offensive? The Germans were wonderful soldiers after all. . . . Yes, but such beasts . . . sheer devils. . . . Here was Mr. So-and-so, just back from Belgium—such horrible stories—really unrepeatable! "Don't you want to come and hear them, my dear? Dine with us to-morrow; he's promised to come unless he's summoned to Washington. But do come anyhow; the Jim Cottages are going to dance after dinner. . . ."
In time Mrs. Belknap, finding herself
