"Dinner is ready and I tell you now that I've never prepared a better one.

This prince has a taste in food and wine that I did not think to find in any German." "And all that was his is ours now," said John.

"Fortune of war." Suzanne's promise was true to the last detail.

The dinner was superb and they had an Austrian white wine that never finds its way into the channels of commerce.
"To you, Julie, and our happy return to Paris," said John, looking over the edge of his glass.

Suzanne was in the kitchen then and he dared to drop the "Mademoiselle." "To you, John," she said, as she touched the wine to her lips--she too dared to drop the "Mr." And then gray depths looked into blue depths and blue into gray, speaking a language that each understood.
"We're the chosen of fortune," said John, "The hotel at Chastel presented itself to us when we needed it most, and again when we need it most this lodge gives us all hospitality." "Fortune has been truly kind," said Julie.
After dinner they went back to the great room where the fire still blazed and Suzanne, when she had cleared everything away, joined them.
She quietly took a chair next to the wall and went to work on some sewing that she had found in the lodge.