On descending for dinner that evening, my companion and I were joined, while awaiting the lift, by two German soldiers—probably the orderlies of officers lodged on the same _étage_. With them was a fox terrier, doubtless the one that interrupted my eavesdropping. It approached to be caressed, which led me to ask the soldiers if they intended to take it to the front.
“_Gewiss!_” replied one, rather aggressively; “he will come with us to Paris and then to _London_!”
The emphasis on the last word betrayed that he thought me English, and the intended taunt angered me.
“Really?” I replied; “evidently you think I am English!”
He smiled shamefacedly, and blurted naïvely: “Aren’t you?”
I coldly told him my nationality, and added: “But if I _were_ English your boast would not trouble me. You are still a long way from Paris, and even if you ever _should_ get there, you would not remain long. And as for London—you might more easily get to heaven!”
They received this sally with confident laughter, and left the lift, one repeating significantly, emphasizing the words with an upraised finger: “You’ll see! You’ll see!”
As the German military element was increasing daily at the hotel, all persons of other nationalities departed, save those obliged to remain. We, the British nurses, and some few Belgians, unable to return to their homes in other parts of Belgium, were consequently in constant association with numerous high officials, who, in the first pride of victory, discarded their war-raiment for brilliant blue dress-uniforms, ornamented with gold or silver. They strutted about with a domineering air of superiority which later became greatly modified, but at that time was insufferable.
One evening, immediately after the fall of Reims, when the Belgian spirit was more depressed than ever before, a dinner was held in the public dining-room by a number of high-grade officers. They were seated at a long table close to ours, all in gala attire, and evidently jubilant over some new disaster to the Belgian forces—a satisfaction which they appeared particularly anxious should be noted by the Belgians present. But the latter, who hid their aching hearts under lowered eyelids, appeared not to heed them. Outside, however, there were many interested watchers. As the evening was warm, windows had been left open, and at them gathered the idle street crowds, with nothing, night or day, to divert their thoughts—no business, no theatres, no cafés—and too anxious to remain in their homes.