Herr Mayor pronounced Fismesse. In a doleful tone he bewailed the evils of war.
The regiment he belonged to had suffered forty per cent losses since the beginning of war. He himself felt very ill. He had slept in the open air seven rainy nights running. Had I any kinsman in the war?
"Of course, my husband; and I get no news at all from him. That is the worst of all privations."
Herr Mayor nodded assent. These partings were cruel. Frau Mayor, too, would have given a good deal to accompany her Mayor. As to ourselves, our situation might change for the better. It was, for instance, to our interest that the Germans should advance. The front would then be removed farther from us. I answered that we should welcome no such change for the better. But suppose that just the reverse happened? If the Germans were driven back, the front would also remove farther? Wouldn't it?
"Oh! no, no.... Really, this war was stupid. England delights in making mischief, and the French are mad to enter into an alliance with the English, when another country was so eager to come to an agreement with them. France and Germany would get on well with each other. What, then, prevents a thoroughly good understanding?"
"A mere nothing, sir; a grain of sand.... Alsace-Lorraine, sir."
Herr Mayor shrugged his shoulders. He had forgotten Alsace-Lorraine.
His lunch was over. I asked if he intended to come and dine at our house.
Again he seemed at a loss what answer to give.
"H'm, h'm ... I am not sure. I will let you know."