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


Under his khaki great-coat and about a foot longer he wore a white
jaconet hospital coat. Jo had a pair of roomy ski boots into which she
had fitted two pairs of stockings; one had been knitted for her by a
Serbian girl, and they were so thick and hard that no suspender would
hold them up, so they stood, concertinawise, over the boots. One of our
drivers, a witch-faced old man, had a dark red cloak with a peaked hood;
and West having lost his hat had donned a Serbian soldier's cap, which
he was taking away as a curiosity. His arm was giving him pain. It was
very red and inflamed and no one knew what was the matter with it.
We travelled for an hour or so, and then everything on the road came to
a standstill--something was in the way. Half an hour passed, nothing was
done. Several miles of drivers were talking, gesticulating, and
blaspheming; so Jan took on the job of traffic superintendent, and after
a time, with a little backing here and twisting there, the problem was
solved and we moved on.


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