Lucien watched the road, empty except for a German staff car in the distance. He went into the spare room.
“We have to get him out of this uniform,” Camille said. “Do you have clothes for him?”
Lucien looked at Henry Green, hoping he would live, hoping that he had somehow done the right thing, even though his past had been marked by failures. “He’s bigger than me. But he may be able to squeeze into a pair of my pants and a shirt.”
“It doesn’t have to be perfect. But hurry, we don’t have much time.”
Lucien wondered why she was in such a hurry, but he didn’t question her. He went into his bedroom, rifled through his closet, and removed a pair of brown trousers that he knew were loose on him. He had lost weight, more than he was willing to admit. But he never ate anymore. He only drank. B
