Craig and I flew back to Orly the following evening, arriving too late to obtain transportation into Paris. We spent an uncomfortable night in the barracks at the airport and drove to the Royal Monceau early the next morning. It was stiflingly hot and I was in a bad humor in spite of the soothing effect of a short haircut—the kind Francesca said needed a couple of saber scars to make it look right. My spirits fell still lower when Craig and I were told that we could stay only two nights at the hotel. Since we were assigned to SHAEF, it was up to the Army to billet us. It seemed rather unfriendly of the Navy, but that’s the way it was and there wasn’t anything we could do about it. After lunch we set out for Versailles in a Navy jeep. It was a glorious day despite the heat, and the lovely drive through the Bois and on past Longchamps made us forget our irritation at the Navy’s lack of hospitality. The office of the Monuments, Fine Arts and Archives Section was in two tiny “between-floor” rooms in the Grandes Écuries—the big stables which, together with their matching twin, the Petites Écuries, face the main palace. When we arrived Colonel Webb was deep in conference with a lady war correspondent. The tall, rangy colonel, who reminded me of a humorous and grizzled giraffe, came out to welcome Craig and me. His cordiality was overwhelming at first, but we soon learned the reason. Miss Bonney, the correspondent, was giving the colonel a bad time and he needed moral support. She was firing a rapid barrage of searching questions, and in some cases the colonel didn’t want to answer. I was fascinated by his technique. He obviously didn’t wish to offend his inquisitor, but on the other hand he wasn’t going to be pressed for an expression of opinion on certain subjects. At times he would parry her query with one of his own. At others he would snort some vague reply which got lost in a hearty laugh. Before the interview was over, it was Miss Bonney who was answering the questions—often her own—not the colonel. Neither Craig nor I could make much of what we heard, but after Miss Bonney’s departure the colonel took us into his confidence. Somewhere this indomitable lady had got hold of stray bits of information which, properly pieced together, made one of the most absorbing stories of the war, as far as Nazi looting of art treasures was concerned. The time was not yet ripe to break the story, according to the colonel, so it had been up to him to avoid giving answers which would have filled in the missing pieces of the puzzle.