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that these lines were more effective in Italian than in French. N. had no particular liking for Rostand (can one appreciate the intricacies of a Mallarmé and not depreciate the flowery ease of a Rostand?), but now she rose to the occasion and recited in her admirable French those lines of 'La Princesse Lointaine' where the young knight is received by his Princess and asked what he has brought her from afar. Here N. who has developed a gift for miming owing to a limited Italian vocabulary, bowed low and with a generous cornucopia gesture of her arms declaimed his reply; 'Des vers, Princesse!' Did the overseer detect therein an anticlimax savouring of insufficiency for those living in famished lands? The result of this lengthy, literary digression was the capturing of the overseer who, when N. brought out our last bottle of Vermouth, drank enthusiastically to her health. No sooner was he gone however than N. returned with vigour to the problems of the barrel of oil.

September 9th  Yesterday we went to see our friend Y. who has returned to her villa. She told us a harrowing tale of adventures during the days when she found herself cut off on the other side of the river where the doctor had sent her to avoid the battle on this side. What with the gun-firing and the rioting she had to be taken from one nursing home to another and remained most of the time without food. While at one of these homes she made some imprudent remarks, and these brought about the irruption