Man and Maid

Then the dramatic happened--Bang!--the whole house shook and the glass

of the window crashed in fragments--and Maurice turned out the one

light--and lifted a corner of the thick curtain to peep out.

"I believe they got the Colome Vendôme" he said awed--and as he spoke

another bomb fell on the Ministaìre beside us--and some of the splinters

shot into space and buried themselves in our wall.

We were all blown across the room--and Madame de Clerté and I fell in a

heap together by the door, which gave way outwards--Odette's shrieks

made us think that she was hurt, but she was not, and subsided into a

gibbering prayer--Maurice helped Madame de Clerté to rise and I turned

on the torch I keep in my pocket, for a minute. I was not conscious of

any pain. We sat in the dark and listened to the commotion beneath us

for some time, and the crashing bombs but never one so near

again.--Maurice's voice soothing Odette was the only sound in our room.

Then Madame de Clerté laughed softly and lit a cigarette.

"A near thing that, Nicholas!" she said--"Let us go down now and see who

is killed, and where the explosion actually occurred--The sight is quite

interesting you know you can believe me."

"When Bertha hit the ---- two days ago, we rushed for taxis to go down to

see the place--Coralie--has petrol for her motor since two weeks you

know"--and she smiled wickedly--"Monsieur le Ministre must show his

gratitude somehow mustn't he?--Coralie is such a dear--Yes--?--So some

of us packed in with her--we were quite a large party--and when we got

there they were trying to extinguish the fire, and bringing out the

bodies--You ought to come with us sometime when we go on these

trips--anything for a change."

These women would not have looked on at the sufferings of a mouse before

the war--.

The sight in the hall when we did arrive there after the "all clear"

went--was remarkable--the great glass doors of the salon blown in and

all the windows broken--and the Place Vendôme a mass of debris--not a

pane whole there I should think.

But nobody seems very much upset--these things are all in the days

work--.

I wonder if in years to come we shall remember the queer recklessness

which has developed in almost everyones mentality, or shall we forget

about the war and go on just as we were before--Who knows?

* * * * *

I said to Miss Sharp this morning-"What do you do in the evenings when you leave here"?