For a year and a half she lived with her children in that room, separated only by a thin wall from lustful brutes whose orders were that “the German seal must be set upon the enemy’s country.” In other words, they had orders to destroy as many lives and as much virtue of women as they possibly could. Successive German soldiers this brave and virtuous woman continued to resist. Finally, after a year and a half of fear and dread and continual struggle, the soldiers then in her home went to their officers and reported her as a quarrelsome, contentious woman, one who made a practise of insulting German soldiers. Those unspeakable cowards and brutes did this thing for revenge. The authorities descended on the woman, took her children away from her by force, sent them to German institutions and sent her to work in a German-conquered mine in northern France. There the ultimate misery became hers. Her husband gone, her children torn from her, her home taken away, placed at degrading labor, her spirit broken, she fell a prey to German lust at last. Only by yielding to the soldiers guarding the mine workers could she buy for herself the least privilege. Only by becoming worse than a slave could she obtain the slightest surcease from slavery. She fell. For about a year she was tossed from one to another of the Huns in the neighborhood of that mine. Inevitably she became in time a menace to health, and then the Huns in Berlin ordered her deported. She was sent back through Switzerland to Evian with a card sewed to her rags, a card describing her as a syphilitic prostitute. She was too crushed with suffering to make excuses for herself or to tell her story. There was nothing for the French government to do except send her to a hospital near Paris where such outcasts go to die. But Madame Doran did not die. She improved under treatment, and her distraught mind began to clear a little. One day Madame Avril de Ste. Croix came to the hospital. Her angel pity and charity extends to the lowest outcasts among women, and she looks for possible curables among them everywhere. Attracted by the pure beauty of this victim, for she still retained some of her youthful loveliness, Madame de Ste. Croix spoke to her, and finally drew from her the terrible tale of her martyrdom. At once Madame de Ste. Croix arranged for her removal to the house in Paris. There the best medical treatment, good nursing and kindness worked miracles. Madame Doran was soon on the road to partially restored life and health. Meanwhile, Madame de Ste. Croix had sought and found the soldier husband. She told him what had befallen his wife and children. He heard with horror, then he dropped his head on the table before him and wept until his sleeves were drenched with tears. His bitterest grief spent, he raised his head and said: