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I assented gratefully, was handed the pass and fled. It requires some courage to face four officials in order to have a bath. Arrived at the said train, one climbed up a step-ladder in to a truck divided into four partitions, and Ziské, a deaf old Flamand, carried buckets of boiling water from the engine and we added what cold we wanted ourselves.
She lowered her man gently back on to the stretcher. The Flamand, thinking that she had given it up and that he was now abandoned to the Germans, groaned. "It's all right," she said. "He's coming." She saw McClane holding John by the arm, and in her pain there was a sharper pang. She had the illusion of his being dragged back unwillingly. McClane smiled as he came to her.
Charlotte walked beside the Flamand with her hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Again her pity was like love. From the top of the village she could see the opening of the lane. Down there was the house with the tall green door where the dead man was. John had said he was dead. Supposing he wasn't? Or supposing he was still warm and limp like the boy at Melle?
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