By January of 1919, Marie and her father were living in the new farmhouse. The discharged soldiers the General had hired had done their work well, encouraged, no doubt, both by their esteem for their former commander and by the promised bonuses for early completion. Dominique and the General were frequent visitors.

One day as Marie was preparing a flower bed in the garden, she doubled over in a fit of nausea. A touch of sun, she thought, and went to bathe her face and lie down until she felt better.

But as the weeks passed, it got no better. Dominique noticed, and looked thoughtful. That evening she broached her concerns with Georges. "But I know just the man. He was my Médécin-Major. After all these years of war casualties and broken men's bodies he would be delighted to return to his specialty."

So it was that Georges and Dominique dropped by with an elderly officer of the Service de Santé. Marie's experience with doctors was minimal, but M. le docteur soon put her at her ease. He turned to the General. "Mon Général, at this point perhaps you would leave us? " He looked inquiringly at Marie. "Do you wish Madame Johnson to remain?" Marie nodded, glad of support.

The Doctor asked a number of questions, some of which made Marie blush. With her permission, he did a quick professional examination.

"Madame, let me congratulate you. You are pregnant. You should have no difficulties, though. You are young and healthy."