The meal went on. The frying-pan was passed. The food was good and the
talk was better. It was indiscriminately rapid French and English.
When it was English I replied. When it was French I ate.
The hostess presented me with a shrapnel case which had arrived that
day on the doorstep.
"If you are collecting trophies," said the major, "I shall get you a
German sentry this evening. How would you like that?"
There was a reckless twinkle in the major's eye. It developed that he
had captured several sentries and liked playing the game.
But I did not know the man. So I said: "Certainly, it would be most
interesting."
Whereupon he rose. It took all the combined effort of the dinner party
to induce him to sit down and continue his meal. He was vastly
disappointed. He was a big man with a humorous mouth. The idea of
bringing me a German sentry to take home as a trophy appealed to him.
The meal went on. No one seemed to consider the circumstances
extraordinary. Now and then I remembered the story of the street
fighting a few nights before. I had an idea that these people would
keep on eating and talking English politics quite calmly in the event
of a German charge. I wondered if I could live up to my reputation for
courage in such a crisis.
CHAPTER XXIV
FLIGHT
The first part of the meal over, the hostess picked up a nut and threw
it deftly at a door leading into the lean-to-kitchen.
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