were quietly illustrative of the extraordinary
determination of the French. Two women, met
in that mass of the rubbish of homes, remain in
my mind.
We had been compelled to leave the automobile.
For many blocks we hadn't seen a habitable structure. As we climbed around a corner over a hill of rubbish I heard a feminine cry of surprise. Ahead was a house which by comparison had suffered slightly. The glass had been replaced by boards. The front door could not be closed. Countless pieces of shell had scarred the exterior, A young woman leant from the upper story. The surprise in her face at seeing civilians here matched our amazement at the sight of her graceful figure in such surroundings. We stopped and chatted with her.
"You live here?"
"But certainly. Why not?"
"You have a great deal of courage."
She shrugged her shoulders,
"It is my home, is it not?” she said. "Enough is left of it, so I stay at home."
"And the shells?"
She laughed.
“The shells! They follow one anyway, and there isn't much to bring them here now."
Farther on in a less damaged quarter a little
