the hour of ten
Papers floated in the air ; they blew in hundreds of whirling eddies through the streets . And they warned all true followers of the glorious Russian faith to leave Paris that day , for to-morrow would herald the dawn of a new heaven on earth -- a Communistic heaven -- and its birth would come with the destruction of Paris ... . I give you the general meaning though not the exact words . And , like the rest , I smiled tolerantly as I saw the stream of men and women and frightened children that filtered from the city all that day and night ; but I must admit that our smiles were strained as morning came on the First of May , and the hour of ten drew near . Paris , the beautiful -- that lovely blossom , flowering on the sturdy stalk that was _ La Belle France _ ! Paris , laughing to cover its unspoken fears that morning in May , while the streets thudded to the feet of marching men in horizon blue , and the air above was vibrant with the endless roar of planes . This meant war ; and mobilization orders were out ; yet still the deadly menace was blurred by a feeling of unreality .