Maxime let him talk, he was thinking of other things,—like his dog with his ears pricked up for the sounds of the night… Such a pure lovely night! Those who recall the last evenings of July, 1914, and the even more beautiful evening of the first day of August, must keep in their minds the wonderful splendour of Nature, as with a smile of pity she stretched out her arms to the degraded, self-devouring human race.