Soldiers and refugees, officers and deputies, they are all on the platform. Everybody has seen us, everybody has greeted us; next morning the kindest little paragraph of welcome appears in the newspapers. I have completely forgotten the war! The colonel lives on the first floor of what was in the “beginning of days” the Station Hotel. M. Kemal Pasha himself lived there for a time, and now it is the “French Embassy.” Fortunately, the colonel has schooled himself into _imagining_ a house is warm, whatever the temperature; and I found him very comfortably installed, with plenty of fresh air and a fine open view. Within, however, there were, except in the bureau, no rugs or carpets on the bare boards. To secure the luxury of a European wash, I decided to spend the night in the station, where the young secretary gladly gave up his room to me, making a bedroom of the bureau for himself and the colonel’s aide-de-camp, Captain Hikmet Bey, after we had all enjoyed a very appetising little meal. The “Catholic” servant, however, was frankly annoyed at having to wait on an Englishwoman—“that hateful intriguing race that killed my husband!” He was killed, as a matter of fact, by the Greeks, but we are, not unnaturally, held responsible, and once more I realised how little “brotherhood” there exists between Christians. I confess it is always with an effort that I remember Armenians _are_ Christians. In the end, however, Marie decided that I was not really English, and we became the best of friends. When I left Angora she shed many tears, kissing my hand, placing it against her forehead in the picturesque custom of her race, and begging me to come back soon. When I handed her my rubber hot-bottle, she apparently supposed I did not care to use the jug which already stood on the table, and filled it with _cold_ water! When she understood that the water must be hot, she brought it back to me to wait and watch what I would do with it. The idea of putting it in my bed made her laugh heartily; and then she decided to sit down and see whatever would happen next! But I was tired, and, with none to interpret, began to wonder how I could send her away. My phrase-book, as usual, did not provide the clue, so I merely pointed to the door, saying _kapou_ (a door), which luckily had the desired effect. But she was back again as soon as she dared in the morning, to enjoy more laughter at the sight of the hot-bottle by my side. The principal road from the station to “Holy Angora” is wide enough for three or four carts to pass.