The baron laughed. "It is nonsense. Come, your hat. We will go have a look." They hurried down to the lobby. An iron door had been drawn across the entrance of the hotel. In the lobby the shooting seemed a bombardment of the building. A group of American and English correspondents were lounging in the heavy divans, drinking gin and talking to a trio of elaborately gowned women. The talk was in French. "Hello, Dorn," one of the Englishmen called. Dorn approached the table, von Stinnes following, and whispering, "I will request the porter to open the gate." "Baron von Stinnes, Mr. Reading." The Englishman shook hands and smiled. "I know the baron, Dorn. Rather old friends, what? Have a drink, damn it!" "Later, if you please," von Stinnes bowed stiffly. Reading beckoned Dorn aside with an air of secrecy. Walking him to another part of the lobby he began whispering: "I'd let that blighter alone if I were you, Dorn. I'm just telling you because you're rather new to these bloody swine." Dorn nodded. "I see," he said, and walked back to von Stinnes. Reading resumed his place with the party. "Perhaps it was a timely warning," the baron murmured as Dorn drew near him. The gate had been opened and the two emerged. "I make a guess at what Reading told you," the baron pursued. "It is immaterial," Dorn answered. "I engage you not for your honesty and many virtues, but because you're amusing...." "Thus you relieve my conscience," von Stinnes sighed. The wide avenue was deserted. Moonlight lay on the new-fallen snow. A line of soldiers wheeled suddenly out of the Brandenburger Tor and came marching quickly toward the walkers. "_Weiter gehen, weiter gehen_," a voice from the troop called. Two detached themselves from the ranks and approached rapidly. "_Ausweise...._" Von Stinnes glared through his monocle and answered in German, "What is the matter with you? Are you crazy? I am Baron von Stinnes. My friend is a member of the American Commission." Dorn extracted a bit of stamped paper--his special credentials from the German Foreign Office. The soldier glanced at it without troubling to read.... "_Sehr gut, mein Herrschaften_," he mumbled. Dorn caught a glimpse of his face. Its importance had vanished. The line of soldiers marched on. When they had turned a corner the sound of firing suddenly resumed. "Shadows again," chuckled von Stinnes. Snow-covered streets, moonlight, waiting buildings, cold and shadows--here was reality. The thing under the gay tumult of the cafés. Under the baron's laughter. They were passing a stretch of empty shop windows. "It's cold," Dorn muttered. The baron looked at him with a smile.