She was useful by reason of her great physical strength. She
could take up a man as he lay and carry him on her outstretched arms. It
was an expressionless face, with dull, slow-moving eyes that never
changed. She and Joan shared a small _grenier_ in one of the barns. Joan
had brought with her a camp bedstead; but the woman, wrapping a blanket
round her, would creep into a hole she had made for herself among the
hay. She never took off her clothes, except the great wooden-soled
boots, so far as Joan could discover.
The medical staff consisted of a Dr. Poujoulet and two assistants. The
authorities were always promising to send him more help, but it never
arrived. One of the assistants, a Monsieur Dubos, a little man with a
remarkably big beard, was a chemist, who, at the outbreak of the war, had
been on the verge, as he made sure, of an important discovery in
connection with colour photography. Almost the first question he asked
Joan was could she speak German. Finding that she could, he had hurried
her across the yard into a small hut where patients who had borne their
operation successfully awaited their turn to be moved down to one of the
convalescent hospitals at the base.
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