He did not want to reply, did not know what to reply. The reason that he did not even want to put into definite thought was that Maude ought not to meet Andree—because Andree was to him what she was.... Maude was an American girl, a compatriot living under the laws of the Medes and the Persians, and it would not be proper for her to associate with Andree. “Why?” she repeated. “You said she was _nice_.” She accented the _nice_. “If you don’t let me meet her I shall think she isn’t nice at all—and a great many other things.” “She is nice,” he said, sullenly. “She’s good.... You wouldn’t understand her. I don’t think I’ve ever known anybody who was as good as Andree—really good.... But ...” “I think I understand,” she said, slowly. “It was really what I wanted to know.” She frowned a trifle and became thoughtful. Then: “You know I said before that—that I didn’t blame these girls.... It’s the war—and their men being killed—and—Well, there’s something in the air.... I don’t suppose I shall ever understand them, or be able to see as they see—but I’m—well, I have a lot of sympathy.... A great many of us are going to look at things more broadly when we get home to America. We had never come into contact with other standards and other ways of trying for happiness.... I know I’m talking in a muddle, but I hope you understand. What I mean is that I wouldn’t object to meeting Andree....” “In Paris,” said Ken. “In Paris? What do you mean?” “Would you be willing to meet her in New York or Cleveland or Chicago?” She wrinkled her brows. “Honestly, I don’t know.” “Here she would be just one of the sights of France—an experience. Well, I’m not going to have her on exhibition, like Notre Dame.” “It isn’t that. It isn’t curiosity.... Really, I don’t know just what it is, but I want to be acquainted with her. I think it is so I can find out if it is really true that she—that she can live as she does and still be—_nice_.” “I tell you she is nice.” “But you are in love with her? Aren’t you in love with her? Somehow that makes a difference. It would seem sordid and inexcusable if you weren’t.” “I am very fond of her.” “Do you _love her_?” “Yes,” he said, desperately. She was just picking up her fork. At his words it dropped and her lips compressed, but he did not notice. Perhaps he would have attached no significance to these signals if he had noticed, because he was fully occupied in thinking about himself. He had never taken time to consider Maude Knox’s possible feelings toward himself, although he had more than once tried in an inconclusive way to assay his own sentiments toward Maude. Not that he was exceptionally selfish or self-centered. He was only at that stage in his relations with Maude when he was trying to make out what those relations might develop into. Until a young man is fairly sure he wants a young woman very much he does not start to worry about whether she will want him.