“Why are you alone?”
“Because I have no brothers or sisters. I know no one here in Paris. My father has gone to the war. My mother has gone to the hospital where he lies wounded. My grandfather has lost himself on the road to this city, and I have arrived here with only our old servant, Paulette. We were obliged to leave our home, you see, when the Germans came.”
“Ah, but you are better off than I am, for your parents are still living. My dear papa was killed in the war, and my mamma died, the little baby too; it was such a little baby, and she was too ill to make such a long journey on foot. I am here with the old aunt of my father, and we lodge with a friend of hers. They must both go to work every day, so I am also alone. It is very triste, this place, is it not? One misses so many things, particularly the animals and the garden.”
“You mean this Paris? You do not belong here then?”
“No, I come from Picardy.”
“Then we are comrades,” cried Lucie, “for I come from the Aisne district, and like you I have left my home to come to this place of refuge. What is your name?”
“I am called Odette, Odette Moreau.”
“And I am Lucie Du Bois.”
“I wish I could come to see you and your dog,” said Odette.
Lucie hesitated a moment, remembering Paulette’s charges, but she managed to get around the subject by saying: “Why can’t you? When Paulette comes back she will permit me to open the door, though while she is out I may not.”