A Woman of No Importance
France was falling. Burned-out cars, once strapped highwith treasured possessions, were nosed crazily into
ditches. eir beloved cargoes of dolls, clocks, and mirrorslay smashed around them and along mile upon mile ofunfriendly road. eir owners, young and old, sprawled across the hot dust, were groaning or already silent. Yet the hordes just kept streaming past them, a never-ending line of hunger and exhaustion too fearful to stop for days on end.
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