They entered the room and lighted a sconce of candles on a bureau. The woman, who had followed them mutely, stood in the doorway. Now she spoke with that mechanical intonation which possessed a certain vagueness.
You can't spend the night here."
This time they laughed at the reiteration of those words which seemed to possess no meaning. Still there was something uncomfortable about their laugh. It did not last long. They munched their biscuits and chocolate.
The pilot brushed the crumbs from his hand.
He lighted a caporal and strolled to the bed to make it ready.
"We'll tumble in here.—"
He drew back the faded red plush curtains which shook a little, as the candles shook, in the wind from the door. The woman had come closer. She spread her hands helplessly, as one who is suddenly justified. About the gesture, however, was something of despair.
The pilot bent over the bed. Then he shrank away. The observer advanced. The woman did not move.
Her hands remained extended in that gesture of justification.
During many minutes the three stared at the young girl outstretched on the bed. There were stains, now nearly black, across the simple
