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

She turned round. It was a
sister from Dechani. The rest turned round. It was the whole Russian
mission from Dechani.
We proceeded along the corridor, and ran into two men. We mutually began
to apologize.
"Hello," we said, "how did you get here?" They were two Americans we had
met in Salonika.
We got our seats and went out of the train by the other door. As we
passed the compartment we saw a familiar face. It was the little French
courier.
"Quel pays," he said, bounding up. "Et les Bulgars, quoi?"
"Good Lord," said Jan. "Let's go out and get some fresh air."
The only people lacking to complete the scene were the Sirdar and Dr.
Clemow.
A doctor who had just arrived from Salonika asked us to look after four
English orderlies who, new to the country, were travelling to the Red
Cross mission at Vrntze. With them were two trim, short-skirted, heavy
booted, Belgian nurses, who were going to a Serbian field hospital.
The train crawled. At times it was necessary to hold one's breath to see
if we were moving at all.


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