fat, and steaming clothes. There was a glowing stove at one end of the
room. It looked like a red-hot spherical urn on a low black pedestal. A
big bowl of liquid fat was seething on the fire. A woman with flaming
cheeks was throwing handfuls of sliced potatoes into it while she held a
saucepan in which a number of eggs were spluttering. The heat was
becoming intolerable and we edged away from the stove. We waited
patiently. More and more men came in until there was no standing room
left. The conversation was boisterous and vulgar, much of it at the
expense of the woman, who laughed frequently and pretended to feel
shocked and called the soldiers "Naughty boyss." A few men rose from the
table from time to time and at last our turn came, so that we were able
to sit down. We ordered eggs and chips and _vin blanc_, but had to wait
a long time before we got them. I rested my head on my hand and
struggled hard with sleep. At last the woman brought us the things we
had ordered and we ate and drank in silence. We would have been glad to
sit and doze in this warm place in spite of the smell and noise, but
when we had finished we felt obliged to get up and make room for others.

We stepped out into the darkness. The snow had turned into rain that
fell in a steady drizzle. I was so tired that I had no desire left
except to get back to my tent.

"I wonder how much longer this is going to last?" I said to my friend.

"I've given up hoping. The war's a deadlock that may continue for years.
All I look forward to now is the spring and the warm weather. And
perhaps we shall get leave some day."

"We've only been out here six weeks--we won't get leave for another
eight or nine months."