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"The Luck of Thirteen Wanderings and Flight through Montenegro and Serbia"


In her dream a grandfather with a basket had come peddling. Suddenly his
coat, blowing aside, revealed not a body, but a busy sewing-machine in
excellent working order. In her agitation, Jo fell out of bed.
We sat consuming beer outside a cafe decked with pink flowered bushes in
green boxes. One of the antique dames who cook sausages in the shadow of
the cafes brought us a plate each--funny little hard things--and we
bought cakes and nougat from perambulating Peter Piemen.
The station platform was like the last scene of a pantomime. Every one
we had met on our journeys rushed up and shook us by the hand.
First a Belgian doctor, from Dr. Lilias Hamilton's unit in Podgoritza.
He said Mrs. G. was also in the town, and that the others were all
coming shortly. Then we met a young staff officer from Uzhitze, who was
noted for his bravery. The train came in and we stumbled up to it in the
dark. There was a crowd of women about the steps in difficulty with
heavy bags. Jan ran forward to help one.


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