The
drivers were crouched round their own fire cooking something. It was
difficult to find our bundles in the carts as one only recognized them
by the drivers. We climbed in feeling about by the light of a match. Jo
found a foot in one.
"How can we find things with people lying on them?" she said to the
foot.
It remained immobile; she pulled it--no response. She tugged it. A face
lifted itself at the far end of the cart. It was the corporal's wife
lying on her own possessions, very tired and rather cross. Jo patted her
remorsefully and decamped.
We must have looked like a regiment of gnomes bearing forbidden treasure
as we hobbled through the darkness, laden with our bundles of blankets.
The light in the office nearly blinded us, and the heat from the stove
struck us like a violent blow. The mayor, his wife, two hurriedly
dressed children and several other people received us. There was an
awkward silence. Jo murmured in the background--
"It is manners here to go up, shake hands, and say one's name.
Pages:
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357