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was in order to divert her mind that N. had gone straight to their villa after the bombing and brought them back to see the new trench. While ushering these people about N. ignored the steps and walked straight off the terrace as if it were flush with the garden. She fell and hurt her knees. I have witnessed her doing this strange thing once before: when I was leaving a train burdened with a bag in each hand N. ignored her steps and was about to walk straight out into the air when I caught her just in time. I have put hazeline compresses o N.'s knees.
March 26th. This morning I asked Sfollata's maid to show me the other entrance to the underground canal that crosses the fields, to where she and the Professor now run at the sound of the alarm. On the way we met some of the peasant's family: two men, their wives and children. Now these people were wide-eyed with astonishment when they saw me, 'La Padrona', for so they still call me, clad in trench clothes: long trousers caught in at the ankles, woolen stockings, dark blue pull-over, and small beret, all of which made me look like a workman. I was not thinking about my attire and certainly did not expect to astonish my peasants.
Now these hard-working people were attired in no picturesque and appropriate peasant clothes: the women wore flimsy ready-made dresses showing well above the knees their muscular red legs. The small peasant boy of six eyed me with special interest. He had on a little tan overcoat with a velvet