398
ALAN FRIEDMAN
informed me. "A pity. Mathematics and languages a re particular
weaknesses, they require the kind of discipline for which she has no
aptitude. But with an American in the house, it is a golden op–
portunity? And perhaps when the Soviet Occupation comes, she
will
have occasion to learn Russian - eh, Jacqueline."
It
was an odd remark with a suggestion of malice in it - did
she suspect something about me and Jacqueline? Did she expect a
Russian billet in her upstairs apartment? I tried, "You expect war
again in the near future?"
"Yes certainly, soon, very soon," she assured me, "though perhaps
I will not be in Paris." She drank, then leaned forward and said in
her most compelling, mocking tone, "Did you know - how could you
know? -listen, at Poitiers in my mother's house I have a vehicle, an
automobile, which I keep always stocked with provisions and with
a loaded rifle. At the very first signs of trouble between the great
powers, of which there have been many during the past years, I
have always fled immediately to Poitiers. There at Poitiers I listen
continually to the radio. Should there be a more serious sign, I would
immediately flee with Jacqueline in the automobile along a route to
the Spanish border which I have already planned, to a village
III
Spain which is already designated. I will not wait this time."
"You really expect to know in advance this time?"
"I don't ever wait to find out. Jacqueline and I and the animals
have gone often to Poitiers, eh little beast?" For an instant I thought
she meant Jacqueline, but she clicked her fingers and the dog wriggled
loose from Jacqueline and carne to her at once.
She put it on her lap, saying, "Though of course we shall all be
blown to bits by the new bombs, not even Spain will be safe. Tell
me, Monsieur, what do you think, are men beasts? Are they capable
of reason and foresight? Or will fear make them intelligent - like my
little
girl
here. Have you seen her tricks?" I thought she meant Jac–
queline, but with one hand she took the dog by its collar. With
her other hand she reached under her own collar, and the nightmare
began.
"Please, mother," Jacqueline said, tilting her head.
There was a long pause ... I cleared my throat ... "Pastry,"
her mother said. "Quick." I remember I was sitting in a rocking
chair and I began to rock in it nervously. My pupil disappeared into
