There was nothing about him that morning, however to show his bad hours.  He was debonnaire and smiling.

“I am famishing,” said Sara Lee.  “And there are no eggs in this book —­none whatever.”

“Eggs!  You wish eggs?”

“I just want food.  Almost anything will do.  I asked for eggs because they can come quickly.”

Henri turned to the boy and sent him off with a rapid order.  Then:  “May I come in?” he said.

Sara Lee cast an uneasy glance over the room.  It was extremely tidy, and unmistakably it was a bedroom.  But though her color rose she asked him in.  After all, what did it matter?  To have refused would have looked priggish, she said to herself.  And as a matter of fact one of the early lessons she learned in France was learned that morning—­that though convention had had to go, like many other things in the war, men who were gentlemen ignored its passing.

Henri came in and stood by the center table.

“Now, please tell me,” he said.  “I have been most uneasy.  On the quay last night you looked—­frightened.”

“I was awfully frightened.  Nothing happened.  I even slept.”

“You were very brave.”

“I was very seasick.”

“I am sorry.”

Henri took a turn up and down the room.

“But,” said Sara Lee slowly, “I—­I—­can’t be on your hands, you know.  You must have many things to do.  If you are going to have to order my meals and all that, I’m going to be a dreadful burden.”

“But you will learn very quickly.”

“I’m stupid about languages.”

Henri dismissed that with a gesture.  She could not, he felt, be stupid about anything.  He went to the window and looked out.  The destroyers were still coaling, and a small cargo was being taken off the boat at the quay.  The rain was over, and in the early sunlight an officer in blue tunic, red breeches and black cavalry boots was taking the air, his head bent over his chest.  Not a detail of the scene escaped him.

“I have agreed to find the right place for you,” he said thoughtfully.  “There is one, but I think—­” He hesitated.  “I do not wish to place you again in danger.”

“You mean that it is near the Front?”

“Very near, mademoiselle.”

“But I should be rather near, to be useful.”

“Perhaps, for your work.  But what of you?  These brutes—­they shell far and wide.  One can never be sure.”

He paused and surveyed her whimsically.

“Who allowed you to come, alone, like this?” he demanded.  “Is there no one who objected?”

Sara Lee glanced down at her ring.

“The man I am going to marry.  He is very angry.”

Henri looked at her, and followed her eyes to Harvey’s ring.  He said nothing, however, but he went over and gave the bell cord a violent jerk.

“You must have food quickly,” he said in a rather flat voice.  “You are looking tired and pale.”