Odette, under her mourning-veil, admitted that for her part she found no pleasure in it. "I should be glad to know," went on Mme. Leconque, "what sort of a life they are giving us." Odette looked around at the great wood-fire, the walls of the room, a perfect museum, and at the silky fleece that enwrapped the form of the dissatisfied woman. "They have just telephoned me," Mme. Leconque went on, "that we have evacuated Malancourt. Just look at my stockings, if you call them stockings! I admit that I never paid seventy-five francs a pair for mine--I always sent to London for them and got them at thirty-five francs. And to-day I am wearing stockings at 3 francs 95!" "Why do you?" asked Odette. "You would despise me if I paid more for them, in these days. You are in mourning, my poor dear; you don't think about these matters. Do you know where we are all getting our clothes? In the Rue d'Alesia, my child, in a store where they sell ribbons on the main floor for eight sous a metre, and up-stairs you find models of all the great Paris dressmakers at a third of the regular price. You might go there out of curiosity; I'll take you, if you like. You will find ten autos at the door, lined up before the tin-shop, the general shops, the house-painters, and the wine-shops. And where do you think we try on? Anywhere, no matter where. On the staircase, in the corridors, in the shop itself, three women together, not to speak of the old husbands and the men on leave, in a little parlor decorated with two opposite mirrors! Absolute promiscuity, a mob that reminds you of the old Neuilly fair; broken windows, no heat, and drafts of air that pierce through the lungs! My dear, I bought a charmeuse gown there for one hundred and seventy-five francs that would have cost seven hundred and fifty at Lanvin's! The Duchess of Chateauruque goes there; the wife of the ambassador from X. goes, too. Can you imagine such a thing? Oh! we run against picturesque things during this war! Do you believe that life can go on this way?" "I don't think so, indeed," said Odette. "I see that you aren't pitying us. Well, for my part I tell you that I have had enough of this war, and that I despise it! Do you understand? I despise it. Ugh! ugh! and ugh!" Odette returned home along the darkening streets, thinking of Mme. de Blauve, the terrible. She felt much indulgence for Mme. de Blauve, the terrible. XII Odette had bought a newspaper. During the night the Germans had made a series of massed attacks, debouching upon Malancourt from three directions at once. Our troops had evacuated the devastated village "while keeping its outlets."