piece on the seat, she hurried away.

Colonel Dellahousse came to the side of the car and thanked Fanny
ceremoniously. "And if I do not see you again, mademoiselle," he said,
"remember what I say and go back to your home before the pleasure of
life is spoilt for you."

"Good-bye, good-bye," said the French lieutenant.

Soon after she had left Briey snow began to fall. A river circled at the
foot of a hill, and she followed its windings on a road which ran just
above it. Night wiped out the colours on the hills around her, until the
moon rose and they glowed again, half trees, half light. She climbed
slowly up to a plateau not a dozen miles from Metz.

* * * * *

An hour later, the car put away in the garage, Fanny was tapping at the
window of the bath house in the town. The beautiful fat woman who
prepared the baths answered her tap. "Fraeulein," said Fanny, "would it
matter if I had a bath? Is it too late? I'll turn it on myself and dry
it afterwards."

What did the woman mind if Fanny had a bath? Fat and beautiful, she had
nothing left to wish for, and contentedly she gave her the corner room
overlooking the canal and the theatre square, wishing her a good-night
full of German blessings. The water ran boiling out of the tap, and the
smoke curled up over the looking-glass and the window-sill.

When the bath was full to the brim she got in, lay back, and pulled open