interlude(玛丽罗茨莱因哈特惊人的幕间表演)-第19节
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significant。 But this is not a tale of the wounding of men。 There are many
such。 This is the story of a little house of mercy； and of a girl with a
dauntless spirit； and of two men who loved her。 Only that。
The maid Henri had found was already in the house； sweeping。 Henri
presented her to Sara Lee； and he also brought a smiling little Belgian boy；
in uniform and with a rifle。
〃Your staff； mademoiselle！〃 he said。 〃And your residence！〃
Sara Lee looked about her。 With the trifling exception that there was
no roof； it was whole。 And the roof was not necessary； for the floors of the
upper story served instead。 There was a narrow passage with a room on
either side； and a tiny kitchen behind。
Henri threw open a door on the right。
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〃Your bedroom；〃 he said。 〃Well furnished； as you will see。 It should be；
since there has been brought here all the furniture not destroyed in the
village。〃
His blacker mood had fallen away before her naive delight。 He went
about smiling boyishly； showing her the kettles in the kitchen； the supply；
already so rare； of firewood； the little stove。 But he stiffened somewhat
when she placed her hand rather timidly on his arm。
〃How am I ever to thank you？〃 she asked。
〃By doing much good。 And by never going beyond the poplar trees。〃
She promised both very earnestly。
But she was a little sad as she followed Henri about； he volubly
expatiating on such advantages as plenty of air owing to the absence of a
roof； and the attraction of the stove； which he showed much like a
salesman anxious to make a sale。 〃Such a stove！〃 he finished contentedly。
〃It will make soup even in your absence； mademoiselle！ Our peasants eat
much soup； therefore it is what you would call a trained stove。〃
Before Sara Lee's eyes came a picture of Harvey and the Leete house；
its white dining room； its bay window for plants； its comfortable charm
and prettiness。 And Harvey's face； as he planned it for her anxious；
pleading； loving。 She drew a long breath。 If Henri noticed her abstraction
he ignored it。 He was all over the little house。 One moment he was
instructing Marie volubly； to her evident confusion。 On Rene； the guard；
he descended like a young cyclone； with warnings for mademoiselle's
safety and comfort。 He was everywhere； sitting on the bed to see if it was
soft； tramping hard on the upper floor to discover if any plaster might
loosen below； and pausing in that process to look keenly at a windmill in
the field behind。
When he came down it was to say： 〃You are not entirely alone in the
village； after all； mademoiselle。 The miller has come back。 I shall visit him
now and explain。〃
He found Sara Lee； however； still depressed。 She was sitting in a low
chair in the kitchen gazing thoughtfully at the stove。
〃I am here；〃 she said。 〃And here is the house； and a stove； and …
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THE AMAZING INTERLUDE
everything。 But there are no shops； and what shall I make my soup out
of？〃
Henri stared at her rather blankly。
〃True！〃 he said。 〃Very true。 And I never thought of it！〃
Then suddenly they both laughed； the joyous ringing laugh of
ridiculous youth； which can see its own absurdities and laugh at them。
Henri counted off on his fingers。
〃I thought of water；〃 he said； 〃and a house； and firewood； and kettles
and furniture。 And there I ceased thinking。〃
It was dusk now。 Marie lifted the lid from the stove； and a warm red
glow of reflected light filled the little kitchen。 It was warm and cozy； the
kettle sang like the purring of a cat。 And something else that had troubled
Sara Lee came out。
〃I wonder；〃 she said； 〃if you are doing all this only because I … well；
because I persuaded you。〃 Which she had not。 〃Do the men really need me
here？〃
〃Need you； mademoiselle？〃
〃Do they need what little I can give？ They were smiling； all the ones I
saw。〃
〃A Belgian soldier always smiles。 Even when he is fighting。〃 His voice
had lost its gayety and had taken on a deeper note。 〃Mademoiselle； I have
brought you here； where I can think of no other woman who would have
the courage to come； because you are needed。 I cannot promise you entire
safety〃 … his mouth tightened …〃but I can promise you work and gratitude。
Such gratitude； mademoiselle； as you may never know again。〃
That reassured her。 But in her practical mind the matter of supplies
loomed large。 She brought the matter up again directly。
〃It is to be hot chocolate and soup？〃 he asked。
〃Both； if I find I have enough money。 Soup only； perhaps。〃
〃And soup takes meat； of course。〃
〃It should； to be strengthening。〃
Henri looked up； to see Jean in the doorway smiling grimly。
〃It is very simple；〃 Jean said to him in French。 〃You have no other
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duties of course； so each day you shall buy in the market place at Dunkirk；
with American money。 And I shall become a delivery boy and bring out
food for mademoiselle； and whatever is needed。〃
Henri smiled back at him cheerfully。 〃An excellent plan； Jean；〃 he said。
〃Not every day； but frequently。〃
Jean growled and disappeared。
However； there was the immediate present to think of； and while Jean
thawed his hands at the fire and Sara Lee was taking housewifely stock of
her new home； Henri disappeared。
He came back in a half hour； carrying in a small basket butter； eggs；
bread and potatoes。
〃The miller！〃 he explained cheerfully to Sara Lee。 〃He has still a few
hens； and hidden somewhere a cow。 We can have milk … is there a pail for
Marie to take to the mill？ … and bread and an omelet。 That is a meal！〃
There was but one lamp； which hung over the kitchen stove。 The room
across from Sara Lee's bedroom contained a small round dining table and
chairs。 Sara Lee； enveloped in a large pinafore apron； made the omelet in
the kitchen。 Marie brought a pail of fresh milk。 Henri； with a towel over
his left arm； and in absurd mimicry of a Parisian waiter； laid the table； and
Jean； dour Jean； caught a bit of the infection； and finding four bottles set to
work with his pocketknife to fit candles into their necks。
Standing in corners； smiling； useless against the cheerful English that
flowed from the kitchen stove to the dining room and back again； were
Rene and Marie。 It was of no use to attempt to help。 Did the fire burn low；
it was the young officer who went out for fresh wood。 But Rene could not
permit that twice。 He brought in great armfuls of firewood and piled them
neatly by the stove。
Henri was absurdly happy again。 He would come to the door gravely；
with Sara Lee's little phrase book in hand； and read from it in a solemn
tone：
〃'Shall we have duck or chicken？' 'Where can we get a good dinner at
a moderate price？' 'Waiter； you have spilled wine on my dress。' 'Will you
have a cigar？' 'No； thank you。 I prefer a pipe。'〃
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And Sara Lee beat up the eggs and found； after a bad moment； some
salt in a box； and then poured her omelet into the pan。 She was very
anxious that it be a good omelet。 She must make good her claim as a cook
or Henri's sublime faith in her would die。
It was a divine omelet。 Even Jean said so。 They sat； the three of them；
in the cold little dining room and never knew that it was cold； and they ate
prodigious quantities of omelet and bread and butter； and bully beef out of
a tin； and drank a great deal of milk。
Even Jean thawed at last； under the influence of food and Sara Lee。
Before the meal was over he was planning how to get her supplies to her
and making notes on a piece of paper as to what she would need at once。
They adjourned to Sara Lee's bedroom； where Marie had kindled a fire in
the little iron stove； and sat there in the warmth with two candles； still
planning。 By that time Sara Lee had quite forgotten that at home one did
not have visitors in one's bedroom。
Suddenly Henri held up his hand。
〃Listen！〃 he said。
That was the first time Sara Lee had ever heard the quiet shuffling step
of tired men； leaving their trenches under cover of
