CHAPTER XIII.
The sun went down an hour ago, I wonder if I face towards home; If I lost my way in the light of day How shall I find it now night is come?
-- Old Song.
'MAISIE, come to bed.' 'It's so hot I can't sleep.

Don't worry.' Maisie put her elbows on the window-sill and looked at the moonlight on the straight, poplar-flanked road.

Summer had come upon Vitry-sur-Marne and parched it to the bone.

The grass was dry-burnt in the meadows, the clay by the bank of the river was caked to brick, the roadside flowers were long since dead, and the roses in the garden hung withered on their stalks.

The heat in the little low bedroom under the eaves was almost intolerable.