il yourself!" said he.

* * * * *

But the making of love to the old woman in the kitchen led to
possibilities of which Mo Shendish never dreamed. They never dawned on
Doggie until he found himself at it that evening.

It was dusk. The men were lounging and smoking about the courtyard.
Doggie, who had long since exchanged poor Taffy Jones's imperfect
penny whistle for a scientific musical instrument ordered from Bond
Street, was playing, with his sensitive skill, the airs they loved. He
had just finished "Annie Laurie"--"Man," Phineas used to declare,
"when Doggie Trevor plays 'Annie Laurie,' he has the power to take
your heart by the strings and drag it out through your eyes"--he had
just come to the end of this popular and gizzard-piercing tune and
received his meed of applause, when Toinette came out of the kitchen,
two great zinc crocks in her hands, and crossed to the pump in the
corner of the yard. Three or four would-be pumpers, among them Doggie,
went to her aid.

"All right, mother, we'll see to it," said one of them.

So they pumped and filled the crocks, and one man got hold of one and
Doggie got hold of another, and they carried them to the kitchen
steps.

"_Merci, monsieur_," said Toinette to the first; and he went away with
a friendly nod. But to Doggie she said, "_Entrez, monsieur_." And
monsieur carried the two crocks over the threshold and Toinette shut
the door behind him. And there, sitting over some needlework in a
corner of the kitchen by a lamp, sat Jeanne.

She looked up rather startled, frowned for the brief part of a second,
and regarded him inquiringly.

"I brought in monsieur to show him the photograph of _mon petiot_, the
comrade who sent me the snuff," explained Toinette, rummaging in a
cupboard.

"May I stay and look at it?" asked Doggie, buttoning up his tunic.

"_Mais parfaitement, monsieur_," said Jeanne. "It is Toinette's
kitchen."

"_Bien sur_," said the old woman, turning with the photograph, that
of a solid young infantryman. Doggie made polite remarks. Toinette put
on a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles and scanned the picture. Then
she handed it to Jeanne.

"Don't you think there is a great deal of resemblance?"

Jeanne directed a comparing glance at Doggie and smiled.

"Like two little soldiers in a pod," she said.

Toinette talked of her _petiot_ who was at St. Mihiel. It was far
away, very far. She sighed as though he were fighti