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"Has he a taste for fiction?" I asked, with a depreciative smirk.

Maybe I did not say vindictive things inside me just then! The three nieces had turned open-mouthed upon one another and sunk down upon their luggage with averted faces.

We listened again. "They've gone the wrong way," I said, still savage.

Lit with foolish hope to hear thy fondling sighs, Like yon twilight dove's, breathe, Return, return!

All I got by looking then was a mellow laugh from behind her relowered veil; but we were going at a swift trot, nearing a roadside fire of fence-rails left by some belated foraging team, and as she came into the glare of it I turned my eyes a second time. She was revealed in a garb of brown enriched by the red beams of the fire, and was on the gray mare I had seen that morning under Lieutenant Edgard Ferry-Durand.

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