Charles G. D. Roberts,
The Times' Red Cross Story Book…
(1915)
“ Said I to myself, "If I put my wits or my heart against hers it is all up with me. Blank truth is my only hope." Aloud I said, "I will be your guest, mademoiselle, though the debt in which I so overwhelm myself is one from which I can never again get free." For this acquiescence my reward was just a look of brilliancy that made me catch my breath with pleasure. With a gesture that bade me to her side she turned and moved slowly up the path, between the shining copiousness of roses. "I will send a servant with your orderly to the inn, monsieur," she said, "to fetch your things. ”
