““Listlessly we trudge onward. We had pictured our entry into our own country after the long years out there rather differently from this. We imagined that people would be waiting for us, expecting us; now we see that already every one is taken up with his own affairs. Life has moved on, is still moving on; it is leaving us behind almost as if we were superfluous already. This village, of course, is not Germany; all the same, the disappointment sticks in our gizzard and a shadow passes over us and a queer foreboding.””