“The strains of dance music were still rising from the floor below, and the general was aware of the presence, diffused all around them, of foreign life being lived. His features were drawn and his eyes had a wilder look than usual. “I slept very badly last night,” he said, “I had a strange dream. I saw that prostitute, the one whose story the café-owner told us, you remember?” “Yes,” the priest said. “Yes, it was definitely her in my dream. She was dead, laid out in a coffin. And outside the do...or of the house, all in their coffins too, there was a whole crowd of soldiers waiting their turn with her.” “What a terrible dream!” “And yet it all seemed perfectly natural to me. As I was walking past I asked someone: ‘Those soldiers waiting there, are they moving up to the front or coming back from it?’ And the answer was that some were moving up and some were coming back. So then I said: ‘Tell those on their way to the front not to wait; let them go and fight first, then they will have the right to some relaxation, but not till then.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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