The towns on the plain, from
Monthyon and Penchard on the horizon to Mareuil in the valley, stood out
clear and distinct. But after three days of activity, three days with
the soldiers about, it seemed, for the first time since I came here,
lonely; and for the first time I realized that I was actually cut off
from the outside world. All the bridges in front of me were gone, and
the big bridge behind me. No communication possibly with the north, and
none with the south except by road over the hill to Lagny. Esbly
evacuated, Couilly evacuated, Quincy evacuated. All the shops closed.
No government, no post-office, and absolutely no knowledge of what had
happened since Wednesday. I had a horrible sense of isolation.
Luckily for me, part of the morning was killed by what might be called
an incident or a disaster or a farce--just as you look at it. First of
all, right after breakfast I had the proof that I was right about the
Germans. Evidently well informed of the movements of the English, they
rode boldly into the open. Luckily they seemed disinclined to do any
mischief. Perhaps the place looked too humble to be bothered with.
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