He smiled, 'No, mademoiselle,' he said. 'In England only the kind of person who sleeps on straw mattresses in cinemas does that sort of thing. The very lowest type of all.'
She laughed. 'Thieves and vagabonds,' she said. 'Yes, that is true.'
She turned to Rose. 'What is her name?' she asked.
The little girl said: 'Jo-Jo.'
The children clustered round, calling the kitten by its new name, trying to make it answer. The kitten sat unmoved, washing its face with a tiny paw. Nicole looked at it for a few moments.
Then she said: 'It is like the lions, in the Zoo de Vincennes. They also do like that.'
Howard had never been to the Paris zoo. He said: 'Have they many lions and tigers there?'
She shrugged her shoulders. 'They have some. I do not know how many -1 have only been there once.' And then, to his surprise, she looked up at him with laughter in her eyes. 'I went there with John,' she said. 'Naturally, one would not remember how many lions and tigers there were in the zoo.'
He was startled; then he smiled a little to himself. 'Naturally,' he said drily. 'But did you never go there as a child?'
She shook her head. 'One does not go to see these places he shared this out among them and this made a little relish to the meal.
Presently, they left the Cinema du Monde and, pushing the pram before them, made their way towards the railway station. The town was full of Germans parading down the streets, Germans driving lorries, Germans lounging at the doors of billets, Germans in the shops. They tried to get chocolate for the children at several shops, but the soldiers had swept the town clean of sweets of every kind. They bought a couple of long rolls of bread and a brown sausage of doubtful origin as provision for their journey. Fruit was unobtainable, but they bought a few lettuces.
At the railway station they passed the barrier without difficulty, surrendering their billeting pass to the German officer. They put the pram into the baggage-wagon on the train for Brest, and climbed up into a third-class carriage.
It was only when the train was well on the way that Howard discovered that la petite Rose was nursing a very dirty black and white kitten.
Nicole was at first inclined to be sharp with her. 'We do not want a little cat,' she said to Rose. 'No, truly we do not want that cat or any other cat. You must put him out at the next station.'
The corners of the little girl's mouth drooped, and she clutched the kitten tighter. Howard said: 'I wouldn't do that. He might get lost.'
Ronnie said: 'She might get lost, Mr Howard. Rose says it's a lady cat. How do you know it's a lady cat, Rose?'
Nicole expostulated: 'But Monsieur Howard, the little cat belongs to somebody else. It is not our cat, that one.'
He said placidly: 'It's our cat now.'
She opened her mouth to say something impetuous, thought better of it, and said nothing. Howard said: 'It is a very little thing, mademoiselle. It won't add to our difficulties, but it will give them a good deal of pleasure.'
Indeed, what he said was perfectly correct. The children were clustered round intent on the kitten, which was washing its face on Rose's lap. Willem turned to Nicole, beaming, and said something unintelligible to her. Then he turned back, watching the kitten again, entranced.
Nicole said, in a resigned tone: 'As you wish. In England, does one pick up cats and take them away like that?'
He smiled, 'No, mademoiselle,' he said. 'In England only the kind of person who sleeps on straw mattresses in cinemas does that sort of thing. The very lowest type of all.'
She laughed. 'Thieves and vagabonds,' she said. 'Yes, that is true.'
She turned to Rose. 'What is her name?' she asked.
The little girl said: 'Jo-Jo.'
The children clustered round, calling the kitten by its new name, trying to make it answer. The kitten sat unmoved, washing its face with a tiny paw. Nicole looked at it for a few moments.
Then she said: 'It is like the lions, in the Zoo de Vincennes. They also do like that.'
Howard had never been to the Paris zoo. He said: 'Have they many lions and tigers there?'
She shrugged her shoulders. They have some. I do not know how many - I have only been there once.' And then, to his surprise, she looked up at him with laughter in her eyes. 'I went there with John,' she said. 'Naturally, one would not remember how many lions and tigers there were in the zoo.'
He was startled; then he smiled a little to himself. 'Naturally,' he said drily. 'But did you never go there as a child?'
She shook her head. 'One does not go to see these places except when one is showing the sights of Paris to a friend, you understand,' she said. 'That was the reason that John came to Paris, because he had never seen Paris. And I said that I would show him Paris. That was how it was.'
He nodded. 'Did he like the zoo?' he asked.
She said: 'It was a very happy day that. It was a French day.' She turned to him a little shyly. 'We had arranged a joke, you see - we should speak only in French one day and in English on the next day. On the English day we did not talk very much,' she said reminiscently. 'It was too difficult; we used to say that the English day ended after tea...'
Mildly surprised, he said: 'Did he speak French well?' Because that was most unlike John.
She laughed outright. 'No - not at all. He spoke French very, very badly. But that day, on the way out to Vincennes, the taxi-driver spoke English to John, because there are many tourists in Paris and some of the drivers can speak a little English. And John spoke to him in English. Because I had a new summer hat, with carnations, you understand - not a smart hat, but a little country thing with a wide brim. And John asked the taxi-driver to tell him what the French was for' - she hesitated for a moment, and then said - 'to tell me that I was looking very pretty. And the man laughed a lot and told him, so then John knew and he could say it to me himself. And he gave the driver twenty francs.'
The old man said: 'It was probably worth that, mademoiselle.'
'She said: 'He wrote it down. And then, when he wanted me to laugh, he use. d to get out his little book and read it out to me.'
She turned and stared out of the window at the slowly-moving landscape. The old man did not pursue the subject; indeed, he could think of nothing adequate to say. He got out his packet of caporal cigarettes and offered one to Nicole, but she refused.
'It is not in the part, that, monsieur,' she said quietly. 'Not in this dress.'
He nodded; lower middle-class Frenchwomen do not smoke cigarettes in public. He lit one himself, and blew a long cloud of the bitter smoke. It was hot already in the carriage, though they had the windows open. The smaller children, Pierre and Sheila, were already tired and inclined to be fretful.
All day the train ground slowly on in the hot sun. It was not crowded, and they seldom had anybody in the carriage with them, which was a relief. As on the previous day, the German troops travelling were confined strictly to their own part of the train. On all the station platforms they were much in evidence. At towns such as St Brieuc, the exit from the station appeared to be picketed by a couple of German soldiers; at the wayside halts they did not seem to worry about passengers leaving the station.
Nicole drew Howard's attention to this feature. 'It is good, that,' she said. 'At Landerneau it may be possible to go through without questioning. But if we are stopped, we have still a good story to tell.'
He said: 'Where are we going tonight, mademoiselle? I am entirely in your hands.'
She said. 'There is a farm, about five miles from Landerneau, to the south. Madame Guinevec, wife of Jean Henri - that was her home before she was married. I have been there with my father, at the time of the horse fair, the fete, at Landerneau.'
'I see,' he said. 'What is the name of the people at the farm?'
'Arvers,' she said. 'Aristide Arvers is the father of Marie.
