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A young man stood outside in the starlight. "Well, Jack Burley, you old son of a gun!" drawled Glenn. "Gawd! You look fit for a dead one!" "We ain’t told her!" whispered Smith. "She an’ us done in a Fritz this evening, an’ it sorter turned Maryette’s stomach " "Not that she ain’t well," explained Glenn hastily; "only a girl feels different.
"Look, Stick," drawled Glenn. "Maryette’s got her decoration on." From where they lounged by the river wall they could see the cross of the Legion pinned to the girl’s blouse.
Automobiles arrived two armoured cars and grey passenger machines in which there were officers. The airman laid his hand on Maryette’s arm. "Little bell-mistress," he said, "German officers are coming into the tower. I want them to find you in my arms when they come up into this belfry. Understand me, and forgive me." "I understand," she whispered. "Play your part bravely. Will you?" "Yes."
"Go back," he said briefly, recognizing Burley and returning his salute. "You may have to take your mules out of Sainte Lesse!" he added, as he wheeled his horse. "We are getting into trouble out here, nom de Dieu!" Maryette’s head hung as the donkey jogged along, trotting willingly because his nose was now pointed homeward.
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