When we were about half the way across the
fields a shell came over our heads, and we could see it bursting upon
the road almost exactly at the spot where we expected the car to wait.
This was somewhat disconcerting, and R., after the manner of the British
officer, whose first thought in reality as well as in fiction is for his
man, showed a good deal of anxiety lest his chauffeur should have been
in trouble. The shell was not a solitary one, and there was soon another
bursting on our left and another in the air in front of us. Though I
have, in the abstract, no desire for shellfire, even when very mild, I
could not, in a sense, help being glad that I was obliged to get so
excellent a view of what a shell bursting in the air looks like at
fairly close quarters. To be truthful, it looks almost exactly like what
I used to call an absurdly exaggerated picture in the illustrated
newspapers! There was no great danger, but R.--- who was no doubt
slightly anxious about his charge, _i.e._ myself, just as one is
anxious when showing sights to visitors when one is threatened by a
hailstorm,--thought we had better sit down and wait till we saw whether
the shelling was going to stop or possibly develop into something really
unpleasant.
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