"But why on earth is she carrying frame, glass, and all? It must be
nearly killing her in this heat!"

"Madame," said the woman's friend solemnly, "she worked six months and
put all her savings into that frame! Do you wonder she did not wish to
leave it behind!"

I opened a side door and showed them a foot path across the hills, a
short cut which carriages could not take, and was just turning the key
in the lock when the telephone rang.

That was the first time since the second of August! What could it mean?
Probably the arrival of wounded. I literally flew to answer the call.

I had some little difficulty recognizing Mademoiselle Mauxpoix' voice:
it was trembling with emotion. She greeted me politely and then begging
me not to be too alarmed, she announced that she had just received
official orders to put all her telephones and telegraphic apparatus out
of working order--to damage them so that repairs would be impossible.

"I have ten minutes more left," she continued. "A government motor is
coming at four o'clock to take me, my employees and my books to Tours."

"But, Mademoiselle--"

She did not heed my interruption. "You cannot stay, Madame Huard! You
must not! No woman is safe on their path. I know this better than you,
for I have been receiving official reports for more than a month! The
worst is true! For the love of heaven, go--you've still got a chance
though there's hard fighting going on in the streets of Chateau Thierry!