"The day before yesterday. I didn't dare to leave the woods, even at night."
"You've traveled far?"
"A million miles, I think. I don't know how far. They had me working on the railroad near Mannheim."
"And you escaped?"
"At night, from the pen. They shot at me, but I swam down a stream and got away. I lived on berries for a while--and potatoes, when I could steal them. I'm a living example of food conservation. It was risky work approaching the farm houses, on account of the dogs. Some of us may think Germany will go to the dogs, but I'm sure of one thing and that is that all the dogs in the world have gone to Germany. And they never sleep. I went miles out of my way to avoid the roads. You're the first human being I've spoken to for weeks. It's quite extraordinary to be able to talk again, to have some one listen. Sometimes in the deep woods I used to talk to myself just to hear the sound of my own voice."
"I'm very sorry for you."
There was no doubting the sincerity of her tone or the gentleness in her eyes.
"Sorry? Are you? That's very wonderful. I thought that people had stopped being sorry for anything in this world."
"It's terrible to be so bitter."
He laughed. "I'm not bitter. I never felt more amiable in my life. But the world has gone mad, Mademoiselle."