“There's none in this village, Major.”
“Where the hell is there one?”
“I don't know,” said the lieutenant in a humble tone.
“Why the hell don't you know? This organization's rotten, no good.... Major Stanley's just been killed. What the hell's the name of this village?”
“Thiocourt.”
“Where the hell's that?”
The chauffeur had leaned out. He had no cap and his hair was full of dust.
“You see, Lootenant, we wants to get to Chalons—”
“Yes, that's it. Chalons sur...Chalons-sur-Marne,” said the Major.
“The billeting officer has a map,” said the lieutenant, “last house to the left.”