She, too, was an attractive woman.

The Frenchman had another shoulder at _her_ service.

Unhappily the room was dark--the look was lost on Mercy.

She was thinking of the helpless men in the inner chamber, and she quietly recalled the surgeon to a sense of his professional duties.
"What is to become of the sick and wounded ?" she asked.
Monsieur Surville shrugged one shoulder--the shoulder that was free.
"The strongest among them we can take away with us," he said.

"The others must be left here.