Page:Storm Over Paris.pdf/201

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

of her limbs she raised her knees, folded her hands over them and leaned against the curvature of the wall. Soon she dozed off.

An unexpected splash of water awakened her. She opened her eyes and looked without emotion at the flood of water that was rolling down the steps and bathing her hiding-place in a muddy stream. The stream bore along with it soaked newspapers, yellowed by the sun, sailing along like fantastic vessels filled with golden-brown autumn leaves-flaming in the agony of their death. The flood reached Anna's ragged shoes, soaked the stiff folds of her raincoat which were billowing in the wind. The blown spray spattered her face. The flowing stream also washed away the sheets of newspapers which she had spread beneath her, and she slipped down and lay prone, the raincoat flat against the bald, slippery stone. In a grotesque pose, with arms extended, she took on the semblance of one crucified-but instead of being on the cross, she lay in the mud, nailed horizontally to the wet earth.

How long she lay there-neither she nor time itself knew; neither the passing minutes nor the beating rain nor the thrashing gusts of wind, nor the clouds of mist which later parted to reveal a sky ruddy with the reflection of the setting sun.

When at last she opened her eyes she had the feeling that something red was trying to lift her from the ground. She did not know whether this ruddiness belonged to the sky or to the bearded face which bent over her. All she knew was that she must get up. Her mind, like the sun was in twilight and flashes of red shot through her brain. The fear of madness animated her will; she strove desperately to rise to a vertical position, perhaps to be vertical with the living world. Her instinctive desire to live took possession of her;