"All sorts of people come to this place, mademoiselle. But few ladies. It is best that I remain here." She could not move him. He had remained standing while she spoke to him, and now he yawned, striving to conceal it. Sara Lee felt very uncomfortable, but Jean's attitude and voice alike were firm. She thanked him and said good night, but she slept little after that. Lying there in the darkness, a warm glow of gratitude to Henri, and a feeling of her safety in his care, wrapped her like a mantle. She wondered drowsily if Harvey would ever have thought of all the small things that seemed second nature to this young Belgian officer. She rather thought not. IX While she was breakfasting the next morning there was a tap at the door, and thinking it the maid she called to her to come in. But it was Jean, an anxious Jean, twisting his cap in his hands. "You have had a message from the captain, mademoiselle?" "No, Jean." "He was to have returned during the night. He has not come, mademoiselle." Sara Lee forgot her morning negligée in Jean's harassed face. "But--where did he go?" Jean shrugged his shoulders and did not reply. "Are you worried about him?" "I am anxious, mademoiselle. But I am often anxious; and--he always returns." He smiled almost sheepishly. Sara Lee, who had no subtlety but a great deal of intuition, felt that there was a certain relief in the smile, as though Jean, having had no message from his master, was pleased that she had none. Which was true enough, at that. Also she felt that Jean's one eye was inspecting her closely, which was also true. A new factor had come into Henri's life--by Jean's reasoning, a new and dangerous one. And there were dangers enough already. Highly dangerous, Jean reflected in the back of his head as he backed out with a bow. A young girl unafraid of the morning sun and sitting at a little breakfast table as fresh as herself--that was a picture for a war-weary man. Jean forgot for a moment his anxiety for Henri's safety in his fear for his peace of mind. For a doubt had been removed. The girl was straight. Jean's one sophisticated eye had grasped that at once. A good girl, alone, and far from home! And Henri, like all soldiers, woman-hungry for good women, for unpainted skins and clear eyes and the freshness and bloom of youth. All there, behind that little breakfast table which might so pleasantly have been laid for two. Jean took a walk that morning, and stood staring for twenty minutes into a clock maker's window, full of clocks. After which he drew out his watch and looked at the time! At two in the afternoon Sara Lee saw Henri's car come into the square. It was, if possible, more dilapidated than before, and he came like a gray whirlwind, scattering people and dogs out of his way. Almost before he had had time to enter the hotel Sara Lee heard him in the hall, and the next moment he was bowing before her.