_Gemuthlich._
What?"
"You are right," said the baron, with downcast eyes. "We Belgians
have no word for that. It is inexpressible--except in German. I
bid you good night."
For nearly a fortnight this condition of affairs continued. The
baron endured it as best he could, obeying scrupulously the military
regulations which necessity laid upon him, and taking his revenge
only in long thoughts and words of polite sarcasm which he knew would
not be understood. The baroness worked hard at the housekeeping,
often cooking and cleaning with her own hands, and rejoicing secretly
with her husband over the rare news that came from their daughter
in England, from their boy at the front in West Flanders. Sometimes,
when the coast was clear, husband and wife walked together under the
beech-trees and talked in low tones of the time when the ravenous
beast should no more go up on the land.
The two noble officers performed their routine duties, found such
amusement as they could in neighboring villages and towns, drank
deep at night, and taxed their ingenuity to invent small ways of
annoying their hosts, for whom they felt the contemptuous dislike
of the injurer for the injured.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57