Page:Wounded Souls.djvu/96

 they gave her to the dogs to tear in pieces I would not lift my little finger to save her."

Hélène came in, and was surprised at the emotion of her mother's voice.

"What is it, little maman?"

Madame Chéri, regained control of herself, which for a moment she had lost in a passion that shook her.

"It is a little matter. This officer and I have been talking about vile people who sold themselves to our enemy. He understands perfectly."

"I understand," I said, gravely. "There is a great deal of cruelty in the world, madame, and less charity than I had hoped."

"There is, praise be to God, a little justice," said Madame Chéri, very calmly.

"Au revoir, madame!"

"Au revoir, monsieur!"

"Au revoir, mademoiselle!"

I was shocked then at the callousness of the lady. It seemed to me incredible. Now I am no longer shocked, but understand the horror that was hers, the loathing, for a daughter of France who had—if the mob were not mistaken!—violated the code of honour which enabled the French people to resist German brutality, even German kindness, which they hated worse, with a most proud disdain. That girl outside, bleeding and senseless in the car, had been friendly with German officers, notorious in her company with them. Otherwise she would not have been seized by the crowd and branded for shame. There was a fierce protective instinct which hardened Madame Chéri against charity. Only those who have seen what war means to women close to it, in enemy hands, may truly understand, and, understanding, curse war again for all its destruction of souls and bodies.