LAST DAYS IN PARIS
to the Louvre and then to Notre Dame. We noticed
that many Parisians were making the same pilgrim-
age. Most of the women and many of the men had
tears in their eyes, but I heard not a single word of
despair. Everyone was alive to the unbelievable
charm of the city we loved and were now to leave.
We felt certain, too, that a civilization that had
produced beauty such as this could not die.
We went back home and, as millions of Parisians
must have been doing at that moment, began to ask
ourselves what we could save and take with us.
I cannot think of anything more distressing than to
look around one's familiar surroundings, at the books
one has collected with so much care, at the cupboard
full of friendly letters, and to think: I've only one
car, I must choose and I can choose very little/ We
chose what we thought was absolutely essential or so
dear to us that we could not part with it; and when
we had chosen, it was ten times too much. In any
case we had not bags enough for all the books and
letters, so we went out again to buy them*
I cannot find words to express how much I
admired the courage of the Parisians on that tragic
Monday. They knew their impending doom. Many
of them could not leave. They all carried on with
their jobs as well as they were able, as if it had been
any ordinary working day. The girls in the shops
did all they could to help these unforeseen
customers. In the streets the police conscientiously
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