noon
These were not yet for American soldiers in France , though their turn would come , and their wholesale need . But as Marie Louise wrought she could imagine the shattered flesh , the crying nerves of some poor patriot whose gaping wound this linen pack would smother . And her own nerves cried out in vicarious crucifixion . At noon she left the factory for a little air and a bite of lunch . Nicky Easton appeared out of her list of the buried . She gasped at sight of him . `` I thought you were dead . ''