Charlotte suspected a serious reservation. "You mean you have others
more urgent?"

The soldier got in his word. "Much more." His lips and eyes moved
excitedly in the flush and grime.

"Well yes," the doctor admitted that they had. Not in the village, but in
a hamlet about a mile outside of it. An outpost. This man and three
others had been holding it with two machine guns. He had had a finger
shot away and his wrist cut open by a shell-burst; the other three were
left there, badly wounded.

"All right, we'll go and fetch them."

"Monsieur, the place is being shelled. You have no orders."

"We've no orders not to."

The doctor spread out helpless palms, palms that disclaimed
responsibility.

"If you go, you go at your own risk. I will not send you."

"That's all right."

"Oh well--But certainly Mademoiselle must be left behind."

"Mademoiselle is much too useful."