For myself, I have never seen a parson in the front lines wearing the uniform of the ordinary fighting soldier, the uniform of those who make up the fatigue parties and fight as well against perfect misery! My thought turns to what the man once said to me who was by me among the straw of a stable, "Why is there no more justice ?" By the little that I know and have seen and am seeing, I can tell what an enormous rush sprang up, at the same time as the war, against the equality of the living.

And if that injustice, which was turning the heroism of the others into a cheat has not been openly extended, it is because the war has lasted too long, and the scandal became so glaring that they were forced to look into it.

It seems that it is only through fear that they have ended by deciding so much.
* * * * * * I go into Fontan's.

Crillon is with me--I picked him up from the little glass cupboard of his shop as I came out.

He is finding it harder and harder to keep going; he has aged a lot, and his frame, so powerfully bolted together, cracks with rheumatism.
We sit down.