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Updated: June 10, 2025
The Metro was not crowded, Andrews and Jeanne sat opposite each other without talking. Andrews was looking at the girl's hands, limp on her lap, small overworked hands with places at the tips of the fingers where the skin was broken and scarred, with chipped uneven nails. Suddenly she caught his glance.
Thus it happened that he missed the Métro entrance, and instead of finding a métro to take him to the Gare du Nord, he missed the entrance, turned quite wrong, and walked up the middle of the rue de la Gaiétè.
Most of the tram-lines were running, and the metro gave full service until eleven at night, employing many young women as conductors and they made neat, capable workers. Many of the shops, especially along the boulevards, were open for a listless business, although the shutters were often up, with the little sign on them announcing that the place was closed because the patron was mobilized.
As usual, it was empty; but at the corner she perceived a hesitating taxi, with luggage piled beside the driver. Perhaps it was some early traveller, just arriving, who would release the carriage in time for her to catch it, and thus avoid the walk to the metro, and the subsequent strap-hanging; for it was the work-people's hour.
Andrews watched the people going into the Metro. "The gentleman amuses himself in Paris?" asked the rabbit man timidly. "Oh, yes; and you?" "Quietly," the rabbit man smiled. "Women are very beautiful at this hour of the evening," he said again in his very timid tone. "There is nothing more beautiful than this moment of the evening...in Paris." "Or Parisian women."
The Parisians were very interested to see a girl dressed in khaki, and discussed each item of my uniform in the Métro quite loudly, evidently under the same impression as the old commerçant! My field boots took their fancy most. "Mon Dieu!" they would exclaim. "Look then, she wears the big boots like a man. It is chic that, hein?" In one place, an old curiosity shop in the Quartier St.
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