He earns a good salary,
and has always been one of the most generous men in the commune, but
circumstances are against him. Even though he is an intimate friend of
our mayor, the commune preferred to be rid of him. He begged not to be
sent back to Germany, so he went sadly enough to a concentration camp,
pretty well convinced that his career here was over. Still, the French
do forget easily.
Couilly had two Germans. One of them--the barber--got out quick. The
other did not. But he was quietly informed by some of his
neighbors--with pistols in their hands--that his room was better than
his company.
The barber occupied a shop in the one principal street in the village,
which is, by the way, a comparatively rich place. He had a front shop,
which was a cafe, with a well-fitted-up bar. The back, with a
well-dressed window on the street, full of toilette articles, was the
barber and hairdressing-room, very neatly arranged, with modern set
bowls and mirrors, cabinets full of towels, well-filled shelves of all
the things that make such a place profitable. You should see it now.
Its broken windows and doors stand open to the weather.
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