Kings, Queens and Pawns - An American Woman at the Front by Mary Roberts Rinehart
page 81 of 375 (21%)
page 81 of 375 (21%)
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Emil, unlike the officers, was evidently nervous. "Madame is as safe here as anywhere," he said. "But if she wishes to join the others in the cellar--" I wanted to go to the cellar or to crawl into the office safe. But I felt that, as the only woman and the only American about, I held the reputation of America and of my sex in my hands. The waiters had gone to the cellar. The officers had flocked to the café on the ground floor underneath. The alarm bell was still ringing. Over the candle, stuck in a saucer, Emil's face looked white and drawn. "I shall stay here," I said. "And I shall have coffee." The coffee was not bravado. I needed something hot. The gun, which had ceased, began to fire again. And then suddenly, not far away, a bomb exploded. Even through the closed and curtained windows the noise was terrific. Emil placed my coffee before me with shaking hands, and disappeared. Another crash, and another, both very close! There is nothing that I know of more hideous than an aërial bombardment. It requires an entire mental readjustment. The sky, which has always symbolised peace, suddenly spells death. Bombardment by the big guns of an advancing army is not unexpected. There is time for flight, a chance, too, for a reprisal. But against these raiders of the sky there is nothing. One sits and waits. And no town is safe. One |
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