The people were come to their day of flags and music almost as if it were to some religious ceremony. They waited in the grey morning to see their troops go by; coming from battles, going back again to battles, and always with the war so close that, if it were not for the sounds of the city, we could have heard its thundering.
Diane said, because she did not want the children to think she was sad, "The little pink girl must have come very early to have got so good a place."
"Mummy, did she have a nice breakfast before she came?"
"Oh, yes, a lovely breakfast."
"Will the procession never come, mummy dear? That little girl must be so tired. Why doesn't the procession come, mummy?"
"Oh, there's the sun," Cricri sang out, wriggling in Miss's arms, and clapping her hands. "There's the sun come out!"
The sun shone straight into our eyes for a few minutes, and then the soft grey settled down again.
We heard the sound of music and of marching, from a long way off.
The crowd stirred and thrilled.
"They are coming," cried the babies, "they're coming!"