turbulent brother who could do all manner of delec-
table things by crawling and wobbling himself into
mischief, and —God willing— she might have a
second quite soon, for Goundran's leaves were not
proving unfruitful. Yes, indeed, his Elise was once
more great with child; that was why she was unable to
go to the station,

'I cannot permit it/ Goundran had said, cat the
sight of a troop ^train you weep so much that the tears
you swallow will pickle the baby! Paure pichounet,
he does not like salt even though his sire is a son of the

ocean/

Christophe looked round the room. The walls
were still rosy from that brush that had dripped so
much pink distemper, and away in the corner was
old Mathilde's chair, while on the table — would you
believe it — on the table was a large dish of heart-
shaped cakes!
'You used to like them;3 said Elise with a smile.
Tecaire, but he certainly did;' laughed Goundran.
Then he glanced at his wife: 'They are marvellous
cakes, magic cakes for the man who has learned their
secret.' And at this reminder she must actually blush
and pretend to busy herself with the coffee.
They stayed for an hour. Goundran seemed very
sanguine, very pleased with the world as he talked of
the future. The war was practically over, he said, the
Allies had cracked the damned spine of the Germans,
And after the war, Santo belli Mariniero, the world
would then be a fit place to live in. Peace and plenty
they would have after the war, the bill being settled
with fat German money. He, Goundran, had
ordered his boats to be painted in preparation for less
arduous fishing.
But when Elise came to kiss Christophe good-bye,
there she was splashing tears all over his tunic, and
sobbing, and reminding them of the days when
459