great play to which one must listen, absorbed, for fear of
misunderstanding all the story.

It was not long before they rose, threaded their way back between the
sleeping Germans, regained the car, and drove down the silent streets
towards the Cathedral.

"Have you seen it?" said Julien in a low voice, addressing her directly.

"The Cathedral?"

"Yes. I want to show it to you. Will you meet me there to-morrow at
three?"

(The others talked and smiled and knew nothing. Whoever has a secret is
stronger than they who know nothing. Fanny thought: "My companions, to
be as you are is not to exist! Whatever you feel, you are feeling
nothing ...")

"Will you?"

"Yes," she answered, and joined her hands tightly, for this was where
the play really began.

* * * * *

The sun shone gaily. Here was no mud, no unhappiness, here were no
puzzled women, and touching mayors of ruined villages, but instead gay
goblin houses, pointed churches like sugar cake, the old French theatre
with its stone garlands glittering in the sun; sun everywhere, streaming