All of them froze like statues when a shell crashed near by.
“Since dawn,” scolded the nurse, “this racket has been going on. Now, one foot up into the car, dear. Now the other. That’s my good girl. Bon voyage.”
The last to leave were the Gagnons. Pierre walked slowly toward the door with his arm around Mme. Gagnon. She moved stiffly, but without pain.
At the door a doctor smiled at them.
“Do not worry about madame, M. Gagnon,” he said. “She is greatly improved. I expect no more difficulties for her.”
“Merci, doctor,” Pierre replied gruffly.
The doctor peered around the door. “I see that M. Angell is waiting for you in his car. I’m sure you will find his house a fortress of safety.”
His words were drowned in the shriek and explosion of a second shell, and the rending crash of roof timbers. The blast hurtled the three of them into a corner. A shower of falling lath and plaster filled the room.
The doctor and Pierre pulled Mme. Gagnon to her feet.
From outside, the desperate voice of the car driver shrieked, “Hurry, doctor! Come at once! I do not intend to wait till another explosion hits my car.”