As Zola and Desmoulin both distrusted the inquisitive glances of the visitors and the attendants at the hotel, we lunched, I remember, at a restaurant in or near Victoria Street--a deep, narrow place, crowded with little tables. And here again M. Zola, in his light garments, with the rosette of the Legion of Honour showing brightly in his buttonhole, became the observed of all observers. He was, indeed, so conspicuous, so characteristic a figure that, looking backward and remembering how repeatedly the illustrated papers had portrayed him and how many photographs of him were to be seen in shop windows, I often wonder how it happened that he was not recognised a hundred times during those few days spent in London. It may be that many did recognise him, but held their tongues. As yet, certainly, there was not a word in the newspapers to set his adversaries upon his track. It was in a corner of the smoking-room at the Grosvenor, a hot gloomy apartment overlooking Victoria Station, that I introduced Wareham to the novelist. The former had already formed some opinion, but a few points remained for consideration. The chief of these, as Wareham explained, was how far the French Republic might claim jurisdiction over Frenchmen. In matters of process some countries asserted a measure of authority over their subjects wherever they might be; and the question was, what might be the law of France in that respect? Of course M. Zola could not be extradited. The offence for which he had been sentenced did not come within the purview of the Extradition Act. Again (in reply to a query from M. Zola), there was no diplomatic channel through which a French criminal libel judgment could be signified in England. But suppose that French detectives should discover M. Zola's whereabouts, and suppose a French process-server should quietly come to England with a couple of witnesses, and by some craft or good luck should succeed in placing a copy of the Versailles judgment in M. Zola's hands? Unless a breach of the Queen's peace were committed, it might be difficult for the English authorities to interfere. There appeared to be no case or precedent in England applying to such a matter. In Germany a foreign process-server would be liable to penal servitude. But, of course, that was not to the point. Again, although the service by a foreigner might not hold good in English law, that had nothing to do with it. The process-server and his witnesses would immediately return to France; they would there prove to the satisfaction of their employers that they had served the judgment on M. Zola personally, and they would be able to snap their fingers at English lawyers should the latter complain that the thrusting of a document into a man's hand under such circumstances was a technical assault. They would have gained their point. Judgment would have been served, and in accordance with French law M. Zola would be called upon to enter an appearance against it at Versailles.