gasoline fails. That's what women are like." And as he spoke I
perceived the depth of dislike that was in the heart of my Uncle, the
General Robert, for all of womankind.

"There are some women who would not so comport themselves, my Uncle
Robert. I give you my word as one--" Then as I hesitated in terror at
the revelation of my woman's estate I had been about to make, my
Uncle, the General Robert, made this remark to me:

"Women are like crows, all black; and the exceptional white one only
makes the rest look blacker. The only way to stop them in their
depredations is to trap them, since the law forbids shooting them."
And as he made this judgment of women I forgot for a moment that we
discussed that Madam Whitworth, whom it was causing me great pain to
discover to be the enemy of France, and I thought of my beautiful
mother, whom he had judged without ever having encountered, and a
great longing rose in my heart so to comport myself that his heart
should learn to trust in me as a man and then discover the honor of
woman through me at some future time. I took a resolve that such
should be the case and to that end I asked of him:

"How is it that I can serve you in these serious troubles, my Uncle
Robert?" And as I asked that question I made also a vow in my heart
against that black crow woman.

"Now that's what I'm coming to. The French Government is sending an
army expert down here to look over the situation and make the
contracts. I can't speak their heathenish tongue or read it, and I
want somebody whom I can trust--trust, mind you--to help me talk with
him and make any necessary translations. That Whitworth hussy has been