So they stood there in the sunlight, tearless, serene, moved by the prophecy of their child Lorraine. And Lorraine sat beside her husband, her fathomless blue eyes dreaming in the sunlight—dreaming of her Province of Lorraine, of the Honour of France, of the Justice of God—dreaming of love and the sweetness of her youth, unfolding like a fresh rose at dawn, there on her husband's breast.
THE END