He spoke only German, and he seemed very angry.

The owner of the house and the old cook had shown him to my room, but they stood in the shadow without speaking.

Nor, fearing I might compromise them--for I could not see why, except for one purpose, they were taking me out into the night--did I speak to them.

We got into another motor-car and in silence drove north from Ligne down a country road to a great chateau that stood in a magnificent park.
Something had gone wrong with the lights of the chateau, and its hall was lit only by candles that showed soldiers sleeping like dead men on bundles of wheat and others leaping up and down the marble stairs.

They put me in a huge armchair of silk and gilt, with two of the gray ghosts to guard me, and from the hall, when the doors of the drawing-room opened, I could see a long table on which were candles in silver candlesticks or set on plates, and many maps and half-empty bottles of champagne.