There are women who have begun their lives again in a kind of happy misery.

The places near them of the dead or the living they have filled up.
The main streets have not changed, any more than the squares, except the one which is encrusted with a collection of huts.

The life in them is as bustling as ever, and of brighter color, and more amusing.

Many young men, rich or influential, are passing their wartime in the offices of the depot, of the Exchange, of Food Control, of Enlistment, of the Pay Department, and other administrations whose names one cannot remember.

The priests are swarming in the two hospitals; on the faces of orderlies, cyclist messengers, doorkeepers and porters you can read their origin.