smile of German comfort was upon it.

She lay down beneath the branching antlers, and smiled before she went
to sleep: "One pair of silk stockings ... to dance in Babylon ..."

* * * * *

In the morning a thin woman dressed in black brought her breakfast--jam,
rye bread, coffee and sugar.

"Guten Morgen," said the woman, and looked at her curiously. But Fanny
couldn't remember which language she ought to talk, and fumbled in her
head so long that the woman went away.

She dressed and went out, meeting Stewart by her doorway. Together they
crossed the bridge, the theatre square, and went towards the Cathedral
with eager faces. They did not look up at the Cathedral, at the statute
of old David upon which the Kaiser had had his own head carved, and upon
whose crossed hands the people had now hung chains fastened with a
padlock--they did not glance at the Hotel de Ville in the square beyond,
but, avoiding the tram which emerged from the narrow Serpenoise like a
monster that had too long been oppressed, they hurried on up the street
with a subdued and hungry gaiety.

There was a Need to be satisfied before anything could be seen, done, or
said. A Need four years old, now knocking at the doors of heaven,
howling to be satisfied.

Before the windows of a shop they paused, but Stewart, standing back and
looking up the street, said: "There is a better further on!" and when