* * * * *
After a time, the care of the convalescents passed almost entirely into
Joan's hands, Madame Lelanne being told off to assist her. By dint of
much persistence she had succeeded in getting the leaky roof repaired,
and in place of the smoky stove that had long been her despair she had
one night procured a fine calorifere by the simple process of stealing
it. Madame Lelanne had heard about it from the gossips. It had been
brought to a lonely house at the end of the village by a major of
engineers. He had returned to the trenches the day before, and the place
for the time being was empty. The thieves were never discovered. The
sentry was positive that no one had passed him but two women, one of them
carrying a baby. Madame Lelanne had dressed it up in a child's cloak and
hood, and had carried it in her arms. As it must have weighed nearly a
couple of hundred-weight suspicion had not attached to them.
Space did not allow of any separation; broken Frenchmen and broken
Germans would often lie side by side. Joan would wonder, with a grim
smile to herself, what the patriotic Press of the different countries
would have thought had they been there to have overheard the
conversations.
Pages:
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435