Then the dramatic happened--Bang!--the whole house shook and the glass
of the window crashed in fragments--and Maurice turned out the one
light--and lifted a corner of the thick curtain to peep out.
"I believe they got the Colome Vendôme" he said awed--and as he spoke
another bomb fell on the Ministaìre beside us--and some of the splinters
shot into space and buried themselves in our wall.
We were all blown across the room--and Madame de Clerté and I fell in a
heap together by the door, which gave way outwards--Odette's shrieks
made us think that she was hurt, but she was not, and subsided into a
gibbering prayer--Maurice helped Madame de Clerté to rise and I turned
on the torch I keep in my pocket, for a minute. I was not conscious of
any pain. We sat in the dark and listened to the commotion beneath us
for some time, and the crashing bombs but never one so near
again.--Maurice's voice soothing Odette was the only sound in our room.
Then Madame de Clerté laughed softly and lit a cigarette.
"A near thing that, Nicholas!" she said--"Let us go down now and see who
is killed, and where the explosion actually occurred--The sight is quite
interesting you know you can believe me."
"When Bertha hit the ---- two days ago, we rushed for taxis to go down to
see the place--Coralie--has petrol for her motor since two weeks you
know"--and she smiled wickedly--"Monsieur le Ministre must show his
gratitude somehow mustn't he?--Coralie is such a dear--Yes--?--So some
of us packed in with her--we were quite a large party--and when we got
there they were trying to extinguish the fire, and bringing out the
bodies--You ought to come with us sometime when we go on these
trips--anything for a change."
These women would not have looked on at the sufferings of a mouse before
the war--.
The sight in the hall when we did arrive there after the "all clear"
went--was remarkable--the great glass doors of the salon blown in and
all the windows broken--and the Place Vendôme a mass of debris--not a
pane whole there I should think.
But nobody seems very much upset--these things are all in the days
work--.
I wonder if in years to come we shall remember the queer recklessness
which has developed in almost everyones mentality, or shall we forget
about the war and go on just as we were before--Who knows?
* * * * *
I said to Miss Sharp this morning-"What do you do in the evenings when you leave here"?