But the givers of their blood, the lads who suffered, who had made the sacrifice: war had taught them chivalry, manhood.

She heard no revilings of hatred and revenge from those drawn lips.

Patience, humour, forgiveness, they had learnt from war.

They told her kindly stories even of Hans and Fritz.
The little drummer in her brain would creep out of his corner, play to her softly while she moved about among them.
One day she received a letter from Folk.

He had come to London at the request of the French Government to consult with English artists on a matter he must not mention.