"Thousands," Claudinette declared. "Oh, monsieur, when shall I be able to leave the hospital? It's terrible to be missing everything. Besides, I want to make papa understand how lovely it is to march along, with everybody thinking how fine and brave it is to be a soldier. Fancy, maman told me he has been invited to go back to France and that he has actually refused the invitation."
The doctor raised his eyebrows and flashed a glance at Sylvia from his bright brown eyes to express his pity for the child's innocence.
At this point Madame Benzer intervened.
"The only thing that worries me about this war is the food: it's bound to upset custom. People don't order so many tarts when they're thinking of something else. And the price of everything will go up. Luckily I've told my husband to lay in stores of flour and sugar. It's a comfort to be a neutral."
The Swedish masseuse echoed Madame Benzer's self-congratulation:
"Of course one doesn't want to seem an egoist," she said, "but I can't help knowing that I shall benefit. As a neutral I sha'n't be able to go and nurse at the front, but I shall be useful in Petersburg."
"Petrograd," the doctor corrected her, with marked irritation.
"I shall never get used to the change," said the masseuse. "When do you think I shall be strong enough to begin my work again?"
The doctor shrugged his shoulders.
"November, perhaps."