“What is your real business in France?”

“To write.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to keep your passport. You will appear tomorrow morning at nine o’clock at this address.”

And they handed me a scary-looking card.

On the deck I met our congressman and told him my troubles.

“I know these fellows very well,” he said. “If you like, I can fix it for you.”

“No,” I replied proudly. “I’d rather do my own fixing.”