“And the other?” I asked, in order to turn the conversation. “The other one, he with the brown mustache and whiskers, who is he?”
“He’s gone, too.”
“Dr. Klotz,” said Emma, who had drawn near us and was regaining her calm. “Otto Klotz; oh, as for him....”
Lerne silenced her with a terrible look. I do not know what punishment she foresaw, but a spasm rendered the poor girl rigid.
Hereupon Barbe introduced slantwise half of her opulent form and murmured that lunch was on the table.
She had only set three places in the dining room; the Germans, I fancied, must live in the gray buildings.
The lunch was gloomy. Mlle. Bourdichet never ventured a word, ate nothing, and so I could not make out what was the matter, terror making all creatures alike.
Besides, sleepiness was overwhelming me. Immediately after dessert I asked leave to go to bed, begging to be allowed to sleep till the next morning.
Once in my room, I immediately began to undress. To tell the truth my journey, the night and the morning had worn me out. All those riddles, too, worried me, first because they were riddles and then because they presented themselves so confusedly. I felt as if I were enveloped in smoke wherein riddling sphinxes kept turning their vague faces towards me.
My braces were just going to be flung off—and were not flung off.