"They are most grateful," he explained. "It is a--a practical idea, mademoiselle. If you were in Belgium"--he smiled rather mirthlessly--"if you were already in the very small part of Belgium remaining to us, we could place you very usefully. But--the British War Office is most careful, just now. You understand--there are reasons." Sara Lee flushed indignantly. "They can watch me if they want to," she said. "What trouble can I make? I've only just landed. You--you'd have to go a good ways to find any one who knows less than I do about the war." "There is no doubt of that," he said, unconscious of offense. "But the War Office--" He held out his hands. Sara Lee, who had already caught the British "a" and was rather overdoing it, had a wild impulse to make the same gesture. It meant so much. More conversation. Evidently more difficulties--but with Henri now holding the center of the stage and speaking rapidly. The heavy-set man retired and read letters under an electric lamp. The band upstairs was having dinner. And Henri argued and wrangled. He was quite passionate. The man in the military cape listened and smiled. And at last he nodded. Henri turned to Sara Lee. "You Americans are all brave," he said. "You like--what is it you say?--taking a chance, I think. Would you care to take such a chance?" "What sort of a chance?" "May I visit you this evening at your hotel?" Just for an instant Sara Lee hesitated. There was Harvey at home. He would not like her receiving a call from any man. And Harvey did not like foreigners. He always said they had no respect for women. It struck her suddenly what Harvey would call Henri's bowing and his kissing her hand, and his passionate gesticulations when he was excited. He would call it all tomfool nonsense. And she recalled his final words, his arms so close about her that she could hardly breathe, his voice husky with emotion. "Just let me hear of any of those foreigners bothering you," he said, "and I'll go over and wipe out the whole damned nation." It had not sounded funny then. It was not funny now. "Please come," said Sara Lee in a small voice. The other gentlemen bowed profoundly. Sara Lee, rather at a loss, gave them a friendly smile that included them all. And then she and Henri were walking up the stairs and to the entrance, Henri's tall figure the target for many women's eyes. He, however, saw no one but Sara Lee. Henri, too, called a taxicab. Every one in London seemed to ride in taxis. And he bent over her hand, once she was in the car, but he did not kiss it. "It is very kind of you, what you are doing," he said. "But, then, you Americans are all kind. And wonderful." Back at Morley's Hotel Sara Lee had a short conversation with Harvey's picture.