After breakfast I strolled out into the market-place. It was a lovely m, kind of cool and still, with a pale yellow light like white wine playing over everything. The fresh smell of the m was mixed up with the smell of my cigar. But there was a zooming noise from behind the houses, and suddenly a fleet of great blabers came whizzing over. I looked up at them. They seemed to be bang overhead.
The moment I heard something. And at the same moment, if you’d happeo be there, you’d have seen an iing instance of what I believe is called ditioned reflex. Because what I’d heard—there wasn’t any question of mistake—was the whistle of a bomb. I hadn’t heard such a thing for twenty years, but I didn’t o be told what it was. And without taking any kind of thought I did the right thing. I flung myself on my face.
After all I’m glad you didn’t see me. I don’t suppose I looked dignified. I was flattened out on the pavement like a rat when it squeezes under ……（内容加载失败！）
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