These Belgian calumnies
she could no longer listen to . . . and, with dramatic abandon, she
flung herself into the arms of her sister.
Senor Desnoyers raged against the fate that condemned him to live under
the same roof with this woman. What an unfortunate complication for the
family! . . . and the frontiers were closed, making it impossible to get
rid of her!
"Very well, then," he thundered. "Let us talk no more about it. We shall
never reach an understanding, for we belong to two different worlds.
It's a great pity that you can't go back to your own people."
After that, he refrained from mentioning the war in his sister-in-law's
presence. Chichi was the only one keeping up her aggressive and noisy
enthusiasm. Upon reading in the papers the news of the shootings,
sackings, burning of cities, and the dolorous flight of those who
had seen their all reduced to ashes, she again felt the necessity of
assuming the role of lady-assassin. Ay, if she could only once get her
hands on one of those bandits! . . . What did the men amount to anyway
if they couldn't exterminate the whole lot? . . .
Then she would look at Rene in his exquisitely fresh uniform,
sweet-mannered and smiling as though all war meant to him was a mere
change of attire, and she would exclaim enigmatically:
"What luck that you will never have to go to the front! .
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