Page:Storm Over Paris.pdf/8

chapter 2

Anna arrived in Paris in 1932. She stepped out of the Gare de Nord on Christmas Eve, when all Paris was gaily preparing to greet the jolly, fat-bellied Père Noel. At every street corner, in front of every cafe terrace and restaurant, fantastic oceans blossomed forth; swarming with Portuguese oysters, escargot from Burgundy and black half-shell mussels, sweet and salted, and a bewildering variety of other delicacies.

It was the time when hordes of the "professional unemployed" suddenly sprouted as vendors of all sorts of bargains, importuning the passersby with an assortment of mirrors, combs, powder-puffs, nail-files, cigarette lighters, toothbrushes; when ragamuffins offer bunches of frozen violets, razor blades, or newspapers; when in the show windows of the enormous department stores angels with real wings fly back and forth, and in their silken draperies circle round and round the purple-mantled Santa Claus, who is heaping out his gifts with a generous hand. And outside, at the windows, the children stand, with their little noses pressed against the frozen panes, staring in rapt astonishment.

It was the time when every respectable citizen walks through the streets carrying at least half a dozen gaily wrapped boxes, and when the good cheer of the holiday contradicts the gloom of the skies; when tourists from the

provinces and from foreign lands crowd France's capital