The cold deepened, and as he wrapped the two blankets around him his sense of comfort increased.

Lightning flared at infrequent intervals and now and then real thunder mingled with that of the artillery.
He felt that he might have been back at home.

It was like some snug little place in the high hills of Pennsylvania or New York.

Like many other Americans, he often felt surprise that Europe should be so much like America.

The trees and the grass and the rivers were just the same.
Nothing was different but the ancient buildings.