Won, merci, monsieur,' he said.
Howard said: 'Wouldn't you like to take your shoes off and have a paddle, then? In the water?'
The child looked doubtfully at him, and then at Rose.
'It's nice in the water.' He turned to Rose.
'Take him and let him put his feet in the water, Rose.'
She took the little boy's shoes and socks off and they went down and paddled at the very edge of the water.
Howard went back to the shade of the trees and sat down again where he could see the children.
Presently Sheila splashed a little water at the paddlers; he heard la petite Rose scolding.
He saw the little boy in grey, standing in an inch of water, stoop and put his hand in and splash a little back.
And then, among the chatter, he heard a shrill little sound that was quite new to him.
It was Pierre laughing.
Behind his back he heard a man say: 'God love a duck!
Look at them bleeding kids - just like Brighton.'
Another said: 'Never mind about the muckin' kids.
Look at the mud they've stirred up.
We can't put that stuff in the radiator.
Better go on up-stream a bit.
And get a move on or we'll be here all the muckin' night.'
Howard swung round and there, before him in the field, were two men, dirty and unshaven, in British Royal Air Force uniform.
One was a corporal and one a driver.
He started up.
'I'm English,' he burst out. 'Have you got a car?'
The corporal stared at him, amazed.
'And who the muckin' hell might you be?'
'I'm English.
These children are English, two of them.
We're trying to get through to Chartres.'
'Chartres?' The corporal was puzzled.
'Chartres, 'e means,' the driver said.
'I see that oh the map.'
Howard said: 'You've got a car?'
'Workshop lorry,' said the corporal. He swung round on the driver. 'Get the muckin' water and start filling up, Bert.'
The driver went off up-stream swinging his can.
The old man said: 'Can you give us a lift?'
'What, you and all them kids?
I dunno about that, mate.
How far do you want to go?'
'I'm trying to get back to England.'
'You ain't the only one.'
'I only want a lift to Chartres.
They say that trains are running from there to St Malo.'
'You don't want to believe all these Froggies say.
Tried to tell us it was all right goin' through a place called Susan yesterday, and when we got there it was full of muckin' Jerries!
All loosing off their hipes at Ben and me like we was Aunt Sally!
Ever drive a ten-ton Leyland, mate?'
The old man shook his head.
'Well, she don't handle like an Austin Seven.
Bert stuck 'is foot down and I got the old Bren going over the windshield and we went round the roundabout like it was the banking at Brooklands, and out the way we come, and all we got was two bullets in the motor generator what makes the juice for lighting and that, and a little chip out of the aft leg of the Herbert, what won't make any odds if the officer don't notice it.
But fancy saying we could go through there!
Susan the name was, or something of that.' The old man blinked at him.