Then the Commandant remembers that he has several cables to send off. He is seen disappearing in the direction of the Post and Telegraph Office.
Tom swallows words that would be curses if I were not there.
I keep my eyes fixed on the doors of the Post Office. Ages pass.
I go to the Post Office to look for the Commandant. He is not in the Telegraph Office. He is not in the Post Office. Tom keeps his eyes on the doors of both.
More ages pass. Finally, the Commandant appears from inside the Hospital, which he has not been seen to enter.
The chauffeur Tom dismounts and draws from his car's mysterious being sounds that express the savage fury of his resentment.
You would think we were off now. But we only get as far as a street somewhere near the Hôtel de la Poste. Here we wait for apparently no reason in such tension that you can hear the ages pass.
The Commandant disappears.
Tom says something about there being no room for the wounded at this rate.
It seems his orders are to go first to the British lines at a place whose name I forget, and then on to Melle.