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"Indeed I am not unacquainted with the works of Lagneau, Ploix, Arbois de Jubainville," said Morhange frigidly. "My God!" The little man was going through extraordinary contortions. "Sir Captain, how happy I am, how many excuses...." Just then, the portiére was raised. Ferradji appeared again. "Sir, they want me to tell you that unless you come, they will begin without you."
His whole force for resistance is used in adapting himself; and then he curls up in his corner and does not dare to stir, for fear that any change will bring back the pain. We are all so terribly tired! When the soldiers come back, they will have only one thought to sleep and forget." "How about the excitable Lagneau, who talks about blowing everything to pieces?"
He forgets what was said, what he answered, what he saw, what he believed, what he wanted; but he is always sure of what he says, and sees, and thinks now. When Gillot was talking to Lagneau, his arguments were exactly contrary to those he had advanced on the previous day to Clerambault. It was not only that his ideas had changed, but apparently his whole disposition.
Clerambault heard him one day talking with a friend named Lagneau on leave from the front; they said the poilus meant to knock everything to pieces when the war was over, maybe before. A man of the lower classes in France is often charming, quick to seize on your idea before you have had a chance to explain it thoroughly; but good Lord! how soon he forgets.
"I have known Lagneau since the beginning of the war, and he has been in succession, royalist, "revanchard," annexationist, internationalist, socialist, anarchist, bolshevist, and I-don't-give-a damnist. He will finish as a reactionary, and will be sent to make food for cannon against the enemy that our government will pick out among our adversaries or our friends of today.
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