"Is it true the boches are beaten?"
"Have we the victory?"
"Foch has signed today."
"The Kaiser has fled."
"The Crown Prince is killed."
A hundred such-like reports were tossed about, nothing definite but a happy expectancy on all the grinning faces. I met the mayor at 11 o'clock.
"Ah, Ah, Monsieur le Maire, voici la Victoire; What? (There is Victory?)"
"But non, Madame, not yet, it is not official."
"But at least we can pavoise (beflag)?"
"Non, non, Madame, pas encore, but—" with a twinkling eye, "you can have your flags ready."