His heart had warmed toward the little Apache who might not be any Apache at all.

Nevertheless the name Geronimo seemed to suit him, and he meant to think of him by it until his valor won him a better.
He saw from the slopes the same endless stream of people leaving Paris.
They knew that the Germans were near, and report brought them yet nearer.

The tale of the monster guns had traveled fast, and the shells might be falling among them at any moment.

Aeroplanes dotted the skies, but they paid little attention to them.

They still thought of war under the old conditions, and to the great mass of the people flying machines were mere toys.
But John knew better.