"He must certainly be in Belgium.

And as for a bomb, that's humbug.

You say yourself that he's very gentle and wouldn't harm a fly!" A little later as Pierre journeyed back to Neuilly in a tramcar he fell into a deep reverie.

All the stir and bustle of that working-class district, the buzzing of the factory, the overflowing activity of that hive of labour, seemed to have lingered within him.

And for the first time, amidst his worries, he realised the necessity of work.