She even tried to
describe it for Brian, with faltering self-consciousness, and the old
streets which once had been "brilliant as Versailles, full of Queen
Marie's beautiful ladies." Now, they are gray and sad, even those
streets which show no scars from the three weeks' martyrdom of German
rule. Soldiers pass, on foot and in motors, yet it's hard to realize
that before the war Luneville was one of the gayest, grandest garrison
towns of France, rich and industrious, under Diana's special protection.
Just because she was away in her moon-chariot, one dark and dreadful
night, all has changed since then. But she'll come back, and bless her
ancient place of Lunae Villa, in good time!
It was here, Brian reminded me, that they drew up the treaty which gave
the Rhine frontier to France, after Napoleon won the Battle of Marengo.
I wonder if the Germans remembered this in 1914 when they came?
We lunched at an hotel, in a restaurant crowded with French officers;
and not a civilian there except ourselves. I was hoping that Paul Herter
might come in, for the tragic Rue Princesse Marie is not far away--and
even a Wandering Jew must eat! He did not come; but I almost forgot my
new disappointment in hearing the French officers talk about Lorraine.
They were in the midst of a discussion when we came in, and when they
had all bowed politely to us, they took up its thread where it had
broken off. A colonel--a Lorrainer--was saying that out of the wealth of
Lorraine (stolen wealth, he called it!) Germany had built up her fortune
as a united nation, in a few years far exceeding the indemnity received
in 1871.
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