"
Gora recognized the voice as that of a young man, clerk in a butcher shop
in Polk Street, and appreciated the intense satisfaction he took in his
brief period of authority.
Mr. Bennett emerged in a moment with two large bags and walked haughtily up
the street at the point of the bayonet. Gora stood expectantly behind her
curtain, and some ten minutes later saw him sneak round the eastern end of
his block, dart back as the sentry turned suddenly, and when the footsteps
once more receded run up the street and into his house. She laughed
sympathetically and hoped he would not be caught a second time.
II
Suddenly another man, carrying a woman in his arms, turned the same corner.
He was staggering as if he had borne a heavy burden a long distance.
Gora ran down to the first floor and glanced out of the window of the front
room. The sentry had crossed the far end of the street and was holding
converse with another member of the patrol. As the refugee staggered past
the house she opened the front door and called softly.
"Come up quickly. Don't let them see you."
The man stumbled up the steps and into the house.
"You can put her on the sofa in this room." Gora led the way into what had
once been the front parlor and was now the chamber of her star lodger. "Is
she hurt?"
The man did not answer. He followed her and laid down his burden. Gora
flashed her electric torch on the face of the girl and drew back in horror.
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