look. He stalked in and stood, his cap in his hand.
"I'll go," he said. "I'll go, and I don't give a—I don't care whether I come back or not. That's clear, isn't it? I'll go as far as you will, Miss Tish, and I take it that means moving right along. I'll go there, and then I'll keep on going."
"You've seen Hilda!" Aggie exclaimed with the intuition of her own experience in matters of the heart.
"I've seen her," he said grimly. "I wasn't looking for her. I've given that up. She was with that—well, you know. If I had any sense I'd have stolen those photographs and mailed them to her, one at a time. Five days, one each day, I'd have"
"You might save all that hate for the Germans," Tish said. "I don't care to promise anything, but I have an idea that you may have a chance to use it."
And again, as always, our dear Tish was right.
We left Paris that evening. We made up quite comfortable beds in the ambulance, which had four new tires and which Tish with her customary forethought had filled as full as possible with cigarettes and candy. I have never inquired as to where Tish secured these articles, but I have learned that very early Tish adopted an
