“No secrets between comrades. There are thirty bottles of red wine, twenty of white, and a flask of cognac buried in the garden.”
Brent pretended to be shocked.
“You buried them?”
“Yes.”
“I wonder if they are still there. The Boche had a wonderful sense of smell.”
“I put something to mark the place, and it has not been touched.”
“Heavens,” said Brent, “you will be able to stock your cellar. What a good thing it is that Paul is a sober fellow. But I should like to remind you, madame, that we have not found that lime.”
“Did I not tell you? I found a heap of it in the factory stable. I was so excited about the ladder.”
“Something very terrible is going to happen to us. We are being too lucky.”