She drew near, passed beneath the windows. The sight was not so heart-breaking as she would have expected. The nurses, some of them young, wore a smile; if certain wounded men were stretched out, inert, others, seated on their beds, were quietly chatting, calling across to one another; a great burst of boyish laughter took her by surprise, while at the same moment she saw, close-pressed to the window-pane, directly under the electric light, the pitiful, waxen face of a sort of Lazarus rising from the tomb. She became aware that the other building, opposite, was equally crowded; she saw at the door an orderly in uniform, and the inscription on white linen: "Supplementary Hospital." She had thought to flee from the war; everything was bringing it to her. The pavilion that she had selected, with its green lawns, its poplars, its pergolas, was situated not far from these hospitals. All day long she would see only men who had been in the war! Somewhat disheartened, she returned home. It was not what she had expected to find here. Two telegrams were awaiting her; she opened them listlessly--no news could be of serious moment to her. Both of them announced the death of young men whom she knew intimately, old friends of her husband; the first, an aviator crushed under his machine; the second, killed on the banks of the Yser. The next morning several letters brought to her details of this twofold loss. The first of these young men, whom she remembered to have had at her house not three months before, had joined in aerial conflict with an enemy machine, at an altitude of two thousand metres; despairing of overcoming it by shots of grape, he had dashed upon it, crushing his own screw, but had also seen his adversary wrecked as they fell to earth together. It was one of the first exploits of the kind; its effect upon the imagination was great. The other victim of the day, an officer by profession, after having his shoulder crushed and his useless arm bound to his body by withes, had continued for an hour to command his company, until a bomb had scattered him in fragments.