Julio felt that her
terseness was very ominous. Why not mention the place to which she was
going? . . .
In the afternoon, he took a bold step which she had always forbidden. He
went to her home and talked a long time with the concierge in order
to get some news. The good woman was delighted to work off on him the
loquacity so brusquely cut short by the flight of tenants and servants.
The lady on the first floor (Marguerite's mother) had been the last to
abandon the house in spite of the fact that she was really sick over her
son's departure. They had left the day before without saying where they
were going. The only thing that she knew was that they took the train in
the Gare d'Orsay. They were going toward the South like all the rest of
the rich.
And she supplemented her revelations with the vague news that the
daughter had seemed very much upset by the information that she had
received from the front. Someone in the family was wounded. Perhaps it
was the brother, but she really didn't know. With so many surprises and
strange things happening, it was difficult to keep track of everything.
Her husband, too, was in the army and she had her own affairs to worry
about.
"Where can she have gone?" Julio asked himself all day long. "Why does
she wish to keep me in ignorance of her whereabouts?"
When his comrade told him that night about the transfer of the seat of
government, with all the mystery of news not yet made public, Desnoyers
merely replied:
"They are doing the best thing.
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