"Have you found him?" she asked smiling. "If there are obstacles, so much the more interesting. I don't fancy that romantic streak in your nature which permitted you to idealize Mortimer has quite dried up. Once romantic always romantic--I deduce from human nature as I have studied it." "Well ... I am rather afraid of romance. Certainly I'd never be blinded again. A man might be nine parts demi-god and if I knew--and I should know--that there was no companionship in him for me I wouldn't marry him." "That I believe." Alexina was once more regarding the print. Gora wondered if sex would influence her at all. "But have you met him? You were always an interesting child and you've roused my curiosity." "No ... yes ... I don't know ... later perhaps I'll tell you something. But I'm far more interested in you. Have you been in France all this time?" "Oh, no. I was in Rouen for a year. Then I was in hospitals in England until the German Drive began in. March when I was sent over again. Oh, God! what sights! what sounds! what smells!" She huddled into her chair and stared at the dull flame behind the little door of the stove. "Oh, I know them all. Think of something else. Surely you met--but literally--hundreds of officers, and some must have interested you. The British officer at best is a superb creature--if he would only stand up straight. I saw one at the Crillon to-day whose good American shoulders made me stare at him quite rudely." "Who was he?" "Haven't the faintest idea. I only saw his back, anyway. Surely you must have been more than passing interested in one or two." "I am not susceptible. And nursing is not conducive to romance." "But you never were romantic, Gora dear. And you are good-looking in your odd way. And that was your great, chance." "Well, I'm afraid I was too busy or too tired to take it. Now ... perhaps ... but I'm afraid I don't inspire men with either romance or passion. They like me and are grateful--that is, as grateful as an Englishman can be; they take most things for granted." "The French are so grateful, poor dears. I loved them all. After all ... Frenchmen...." Her voice grew dreamy. Again Gora threw her an amused glance. "You must have met many of them at your friend, Madame de Morsigny's, and under far more attractive conditions than any man can hope for in a sick bed.... I can't imagine any more appropriate destiny for you ... you should be Madame la duchesse at the very least."