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 officers—dining at other tables in the great room with gilt mirrors and painted ceiling. She spoke to Brand presently in a low voice.

"I am afraid. These people stare at me so much. They guess what I am."

"It's only your fancy," said Brand. "Besides, they would be fools not to stare at a face like yours."

She smiled and coloured up at that sweet flattery.

"I know when people like one's looks. It is not for that reason they stare."

"Ignore them," said Brand. "Tell me about Franz, and Frau von Detmold."

It was unwise of him to sprinkle his conversation with German names. The waiter at our tables was listening attentively. Presently I saw him whispering behind the screen to one of his comrades and looking our way sullenly. He kept us waiting an unconscionable time for coffee, and when at last Brand gave his arm to Elsa and led her from the room, he gave a harsh laugh as they passed, and I heard the words, "Sale Boche!" spoken in a low tone of voice yet loud enough for all the room to hear. From all the little tables there came titters of laughter and those words "Sale Boche!" were repeated by several voices. I hoped that Elsa and Brand had not heard, but I saw Elsa sway a little on her husband's arm as though struck by an invisible blow, and Brand turned with a look of passion, as though he would hit the waiter or challenge the whole room to warfare. But Elsa whispered to him, and he went with her up the staircase to their rooms.

The next morning when I met them at breakfast Elsa still looked desperately tired, though very happy, and Brand had lost a little of his haggard look, and his nerve was steadier. But it was an uncomfortable moment for all of us when the manager came to the table and re