"Her funeral will be tomorrow," he said.
"Yes, I know," she said.
"Will you be able to come?"
"I think so."
"You and I have seen a lot of death."
"Yes, we have."
"Life's not supposed to be like that."
They detoured to the hospital kitchen. Opening a half-door, placing their basket on a plank table, Jean told the cook what a mess she was in.
"Can we eat here?"
"Change your clothes, then have your picnic here, where it's warm. I'll give you all the hot soup you can eat. You'll be all right in no time, Mlle. Jean."