He looked very cross. But there were others left to scare, so he couldn’t waste much time on me.

“I’ll pass you,” he said, “but if you come back to France again, you can’t leave.”

He and I should both worry.

But it does seem pathetic that the written and stamped approval, in all colors of the rainbow, of the Paris chief of police, the American consul, the British Military Control, the British consul, the French consul in New York, and nearly everybody else in the world, including our own Secretary of State, sufficeth not to convince a minor-league official that an innocent native of Niles, Michigan, isn’t related by marriage to the Hohenzollerns.

On the dark deck of our Channel boat I had a ’strawnary experience. A British colonel to whom I had not been introduced spoke to me. He wanted a light from my cigarette. And when I had given it to him he didn’t move away, but stayed right there and kept on talking.