* * * * *
Work was over for the day and she walked down the main street by the
"Silver Lion," from whose windows she daily expected that Julien's voice
would call to her.
"Mademoiselle has no correspondence to-day," said the girl, looking down
at her from her high seat behind the mugs and glasses.
"He ought to be here to-day or to-morrow, as he hasn't written," and
even at that moment thought she heard hurrying feet behind her and
turned quickly, searching with her eyes. An old civilian ran past her
and climbed into the back of a waiting lorry.
"I am in no hurry," she said, sure that he would come, and walked on
into the Spanish Square, to stare in the shops behind the arcaded
pillars. Merchandise trickled back into the empty town in odd ways. By
lorry, train, and touring car, merchants penetrated and filled the
shops with provisions, amongst which there were distressing lacks.
The trains, which had now been extended from Rheims over many laborious
wooden bridges, stopped short of Charleville by four miles, as the
bridges over the Meuse had not yet been made strong enough to support a
railroad. To the passenger train, which left Paris twice a week, one
goods truck full of merchandise was attached--and it seemed as though
the particular truck to arrive was singled out casually, without any
regard to the needs of the town.
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