their eyes! The poor old place looked as if it had had a night of it,
and as we sat down to breakfast in the kitchen we shivered in the icy
blasts that blew in gusts across the room, for of course the weather had
made up its mind to be decidedly wintry just to improve matters. It took
weeks to get those windows repaired, as there was a run on what glaziers
the town possessed. The next night our plight in typhoids was not one to
be envied--Army blankets had been stretched inadequately across the
windows and the beds pulled out of the way of draughts as much as
possible, but do what we could the place was like an icehouse; the snow
filtered softly through the flapping blankets, and how we cursed the
Hun! At 3 a.m. one of the patients had a relapse and died.




CHAPTER VIII

CONCERNING BATHS, "JOLIE ANNETTE," "MARIE-MARGOT" AND "ST. INGLEVERT."


After this event I was sent back for a time to the _blessés graves_ on
the surgical side on day duty. All who had been on duty that memorable
night had had a pretty considerable shock. It was like leaving one world
and stepping into another, so complete was the change from typhoids.

The faithful Jefké was still there stealing jam for the patients,
spending a riotous Saturday night _au cinéma_, going to Mass next
morning, and then presenting himself in the Ward again looking as if
butter would not melt in his mouth!