The four sat down for a moment at a little table--Denis talking of the
system by which the outgoing Germans were nightly weeded from those who
had permission to remain behind in Metz. Julien Chatel joined in the
conversation. He spoke with the others but he glanced at Fanny. For the
briefest of seconds he thought as he looked at her face that he saw a
new interest smile upon it. He did not know that his own face wore the
same look. His look said as he looked at her: "You, you, you!" At one
moment she thought: "Am I pretty?" At the next she was content only to
breathe, and thought no more of herself. She took in now his eyes which
seldom rested on her, now a movement of his lips which made her feel
both happy and miserable, and suddenly she learnt how often his finger
traced some letter upon his cheek.
These things were important. They were like the opening sentences of a
great play to which one must listen, absorbed, for fear of
misunderstanding all the story.
It was not long before they rose, threaded their way back between the
sleeping Germans, regained the car, and drove down the silent streets
towards the Cathedral.
"Have you seen it?" said Julien in a low voice, addressing her directly.
"The Cathedral?"
"Yes. I want to show it to you. Will you meet me there to-morrow at
three?"
(The others talked and smiled and knew nothing.
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