just in time for him to reenter the army and see his first active
service in this war. Fortunately men seem to take it all as a matter of
course. That consoles some, I find.

I have just heard that there are two trains a day on which civilians can
go up to Paris IF THERE ARE PLACES LEFT after the army is accommodated.
There is no guaranty that I can get back the same day. Still, I am
going to risk it. I am afraid to be any longer without money, though
goodness knows what I can do with it. Besides, I find that all my
friends are flying, and I feel as if I should like to say "good-bye"--I
don't know why, but I feel like indulging the impulse. Anyway, I am
going to try it. I am going armed with every sort of paper--provisional
passport from our consul, permis de sejour from my mayor here, and a
local permit to enter and leave Paris, which does not allow me to stay
inside the fortifications after six o'clock at night, unless I get
myself identified at the prefecture of the arrondissement in which I
propose to stay and have my passport vised.




X



August 24, 1914.


I seem to be able to get my letters off to you much more regularly than
I dared to hope.