Masses of rushing men swept like shadowy phantoms through the fitfully-illumined darkness.

Beneath that everlasting barking, Joan would hear, now the piercing wail of a child; now a clap of thunder that for the moment would drown all other sounds, followed by a faint, low, rumbling crash, like the shooting of coals into a cellar.

The wounded on their beds lay with wide-open, terrified eyes, moving feverishly from side to side.
At dawn the order came that the hospital was to be evacuated.

The ambulances were already waiting in the street.

Joan flew up the ladder to her loft, the other side of the yard.