And Robert Holton explained to him in detail why it was so nice to be free.
Paris had been the most interesting place of all. They had spent two days there. Trebling had been very conscientious and had insisted that they see palaces and landmarks and they had actually tried to see a few but then Holton decided that there was not enough time for that. They met two girls. Trebling could not remember their names; he could remember nothing about them except that they were rather pretty and claimed to be sisters.
The girls had suggested they go on a picnic. Holton had liked this idea and he managed to get some food from the mess officer of a near-by company. They took bicycles and drove out of Paris. They rode through Sèvres and some small towns on the outskirts. They approached Versailles but the girls didn’t care to go into the town and so they turned left from the main road. At a small town called Jouy-en-Josas they stopped, and on the dark green lawn of a bombed-out château they had their picnic.
The sky was overcast that day. And the woods that surrounded the château were blue and smoky and looked mysterious, like the pictures of enchanted forests in children’s books.
When they had finished lunch Holton wanted to go walk in the woods. Only one of the girls spoke English.
“Let’s take a walk in the woods,” Holton suggested.
The two girls giggled and talked together very quickly in French. The one who spoke English finally said, “Sure, we go walk in the woods with you.” They walked in the woods.
Hand in hand the two couples walked between the misty trees. There was no underbrush here and the trees came up out of the stony, grass-covered ground, free and straight.
The two girls understood what was expected of them. His most vivid memory was not of the one he had but of Holton’s: a stocky, pink-faced girl. He remembered clearly the way her head lolled against the tree, her eyes closed and her thick lips slightly ajar. He remembered that her hair was almost the same color as the bark of the tree.