They had raised loud protests when three English women were permitted
to stay at the front with the Belgian Army.
My knees were a bit weak as I went up the steps and into the hotel.
They would hardly arrest me. My letters were from very important
persons indeed. But they could send me away with expedition and
dispatch. I had run the Channel blockade to get there, and I did not
wish to be sent away with expedition and dispatch.
The hotel was cold and bare. Curious eyed officers came in, stared at
me and went out. A French gentleman in a military cape walked round
the bare room, spoke to the canaries in a great cage in the corner,
and came back to where I sat with my fur coat, lap-robe fashion, over
my knees.
"_Pardon!_" he said. "Are you the Duchess of Sutherland?"
I regretted that I was not the Duchess of Sutherland.
"You came just now in a large car?"
"I did."
"You intend to stay here for some time?"
"I have not decided."
"Where did you come from?"
"I think," I said after a rather stunned pause, "that I shall not tell
you."
"Madame is very cautious!"
I felt convinced that he spoke with the authority of the army, or of
the town _gendarmerie_, behind him. But I was irritated. Besides, I
had been cautioned so much about telling where I had been, except in
general terms, that I was even afraid to talk in my sleep.
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