XV
September 8, 1914.
I did not wake on the morning of Monday, September 7,--
yesterday,--until I was waked by the cannon at five. I jumped out of
bed and rushed to the window. This time there could be no doubt of it:
the battle was receding. The cannonading was as violent, as incessant,
as it had been the day before, but it was surely farther off--to the
northeast of Meaux. It was another beautiful day. I never saw such
weather.
Amelie was on the lawn when I came down. "They are surely retreating,"
she called as soon as I appeared.
"They surely are," I replied. "It looks as if they were somewhere near
Lizy-sur-I'Ourcq," and that was a guess of which I was proud a little
later. I carry a map around these days as if I were an army officer.
As Amelie had not been for the milk the night before, she started off
quite gayly for it. She has to go to the other side of Voisins. It
takes her about half an hour to go and return; so--just for the sake of
doing something--I thought I would run down the hill and see how Mile.
Henriette and the little family had got through the night.
Amelie had taken the road across the fields.
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