“But how?” repeated Lucie.
“Where there are trap doors, roofs, and gutters it is easy to one who is used to climbing,” returned Odette with a little shrug of the shoulders and a nonchalant air.
“So then you climbed through a trap door, down the roof, made your way across a gutter and dropped down on the balcony outside there. I don’t see how you had the courage. I can climb trees but when it comes to a thing like this—” Lucie shook her head in sheer wonder at the audacity of it.
“I am not one to lose my head,” returned Odette serenely.
“But if you had fallen.”
“I should have been killed, instantly. What matter? One must die sooner or later, and at least I have no one to grieve for me. So much the sooner would I meet my father and mother again. Now I shall stay till those old ones return and we shall tell each other of what has been, and what has come to us in these sad days.”
But Lucie’s thoughts were still upon Odette’s daring deed. “Suppose you had been seen from the street; the police would have come dashing in, and then—”
“But I was not upon the window sill,” interrupted Odette laughing. “Moreover, I was not seen, for at this moment every one eats and there were few to look up, for those who were not indoors eating were thinking of what they should eat, and one does not look for food in the skies or on roofs. No, I assure you, I was quite safe.”
So the subject was dismissed and Lucie led the way into her little room, saying, “It is more pleasant here by my window. We will sit here and tell of our adventures.”
“And will the little dog sit in my lap? I had a dear dog at home but he is also dead, killed by a bomb, they said. It was strange that I did not weep when I was told, but I think I had no more tears. I shed them all when my mother died.” Into the child’s brown eyes came a haunted look, as if she were seeing things beyond power of words to tell. She was a slightly built, thin little creature, not so tall as Lucie and of darker skin.