occasions when the Secret and Confidential Despatch consists of little more
than a personal note from one strong silent man to another, touching on
such domestic subjects as, say, a relative's hat. It was eventually, if
arduously, arranged that in this instance the despatch should consist of
the hat itself ...

My fascinating manner of greeting Geraldine on Victoria Station did not
betray the fact that I had seen that arch-villain, George Nesbitt,
installed in our train, looking terribly important. George doesn't want to
marry any girl; every girl therefore wants to marry George. I managed to
hustle Geraldine into our carriage and get her locked in without her seeing
George. But George had seen her, and, not knowing that he doesn't want to
marry any girl and thinking that he wants to marry every girl, he firmly
convinced himself (I have no doubt) that he was passionately in love with
Geraldine as he travelled down to Folkestone in his lonely splendour.

On the Channel boat ... but perhaps it is fairer to all parties to omit
that part.

At Boulogne I became inextricably mixed up with the Customs' people;
Geraldine meanwhile got inevitably associated with George Nesbitt. She
would, of course. Indeed, when at last I scrambled to the Paris train, with
the cord of my pyjamas trailing from my kit-bag, there was Geraldine
installed in George's special carriage, very sympathetically studying
George's passport, wherein all Foreign Powers, great, small and medium-
sized, were invited in red ink to regard George as It.

George informed me that, being a King's Messenger, he was afraid he dare
not trust me, as a mere member of the public, to travel in the same
carriage as the Diplomatic Bag. I said I must stay with them and keep an