This was said in a threatening voice, and we made no reply.
The sergeant had executed his mission, but he thought fit further to admonish us on his own account.
"Are you aware that the Germans are unwilling invaders? They did not want to make war. Who wished it? Can you doubt? It was England."
"Was it? Oh, really!"
"And the civilians should be kind to the soldiers, who are very well-behaved. For instance, we ourselves all come of distinguished families. A private soldier is not necessarily a scoundrel."
"I know that," Geneviève answered. "My brother is a soldier. But as patriots yourselves, you should understand that we are patriots too, and that it is painful for us to receive the enemy."
"The enemy! The enemy!"
The sergeant, bounding with rage, struck the pavement with the butt-end of his gun.
"No, we are not the enemies of women and children; we know how to behave ourselves...."
While he discoursed, one of the young men of "a distinguished family," standing on the staircase, caught sight of my husband's shoes on a shelf. He seized a pair and put one shoe into each pocket. Turning round he encountered Yvonne's looks, and hastily replaced his spoil. Twice, thinking himself unobserved, he recovered the shoes. But being too carefully watched he gave it up as a bad job, and his superior officer concluded his speech in these words: