A Chasseur brought back a kettle he had borrowed; another asked for the loan of a gridiron. Never has Frenchman been more warmly welcomed in France.
The fair-haired girl, with whom we had been talking shortly before, came back carrying an earthenware milk-jug in her hand.
"Have you any milk, auntie? There are some soldiers who want a little. They're ill, some of them."
"Oh, darling, I'm so sorry! There are only a few drops left for baby!"
"Oh, dear!..."
The girl saw us seated at table round the smoking omelette, and smiled at us as though we were old acquaintances. I told her that if I ever returned home I should perhaps write a book about what I had seen in the war.
"And will you please tell me your name, so that I can send you the book as a souvenir to you and your family. You have all been so good to us Frenchmen."
"My name is Aline—Aline Badureau."
"What a pretty name—Aline!"
She prepared to go.