The
Americans sprang up and claimed her, first as their own kin, and then at
least as a blood sister. They gave her coffee, and would not let her
pay; but she sat uneasily with them.
"For which nation do you work? There are no English here," they said.
"I am in the French Army."
"Gee, what a rotten job!" they murmured sympathetically.
"Where have you come from?"
"We've just come back from Germany, and you bet it's good up there!"
"Good?"
"Every darn thing you want. Good beds, good food, and, thank God, one
can speak the lingo."
"You don't speak French then?"
"You bet not."
"Why don't you learn? Mightn't it be useful to you?"
"Useful?"
"Oh, when you get back home. In business perhaps--"
"Ma'am," said the biggest American, leaning earnestly towards her, "let
me tell you one thing. If any man comes up to me back in the States and
starts on me with that darn language--I'll drop him one."
"And German is easier?"
"Oh, well, German we learn in the schools, you see. How far do you make
it to St. Quentin?"
"Are you going there on those Fords?"
"We hope to, ma'am. But we started a convoy of twenty this morning, and
these here four cars are all we've seen since lunch."
"I hardly think you'll get as far as St. Quentin to-night. And there's
little enough to sleep in on the way. I should stay here.
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