“Dans le service de l’Autriche
Le militaire n’est pas riche”

were changed to

“Dans le service de la Suisse
Le militaire n’est pas riche.”

These passionate lines of a political exile: 

“A l’etranger un pacte impie
Vendait mon sang, liait ma foi,
Mais a present, o ma patrie
Je pourrai done mourir pour toi!”

were rendered harmless as

“A l’etranger, en reverie
Chaque jour je pleurais sur toi
Mais a present, o ma patrie
Je penserai sans cesse a toi!”

The pleasure he took in recasting this doggerel—­calling in Vivie to help him as presumably a good scholar in French—­got on her nerves, and she was hard put to it to keep her temper.

Sometimes he proposed that she should take a hand, even become a salaried subordinate; compose articles for his subsidized paper, “L’Ami de l’Ordre” (nicknamed “L’Ami de L’Ordure” by the Belgians), “La Belgique,” “Le Bruxellois,” “Vers la Paix.”  He would allow her a very free hand, so long as she did not attack the Germans or their allies or put in any false news about military or naval successes of the foes of Central Europe.  She might, for instance, dilate on the cruel manner in which the Woman Suffragists had been persecuted in England; give a description of forcible feeding or of police ferocity on Black Friday.

Vivie declined any such propositions.  “I have told you already, and often,” she said, “I am deeply grateful for all you have done for my mother and me.  We might have been in a far more uncomfortable position but for your kindness.  But I cannot in any way associate myself with the German policy here.  I cannot pretend for a moment to condone what you do in this country.  If I were a Belgian woman I should probably have been shot long ago for assassinating some Prussian official—­I can hardly see von Bissing pass in his automobile, as it is, without wishing I had a bomb.  But there it is.  It is no business of mine.  As I can’t get away, as you won’t let us go out of the country—­Switzerland, Holland—­and as I don’t want to go mad by brooding, find something for me to do that will occupy my thoughts:  and yet not implicate me with the Germans.  Can’t I go and help every day in your hospitals?  If you’ll continue your kindness to mother—­and believe me”—­she broke off—­“I do appreciate what you have done for us.  I shall never forget I have met one true German gentleman—­if you’ll continue to be as kind as before, you will simply give instructions that mother is in no way disturbed or annoyed.  There are Germans staying here who are odious beyond belief.  If they meet my mother outside her room they ask her insulting questions—­whether she can give them the addresses of—­of—­light women ... you know the sort of thing.  I have always been outspoken with you.  All I ask is that mother