here was a guy standing which might just as well of had on the
brass-buttons and all because you could tell at once by the disguise
that he was a plain-clothes cop. Not that I am so familiar with them,
but their clothes is generally so plain any one could tell them. Do you
get me? You do!

Well anyways, this bird was standing opposite our door, and at the
second glance I had him spotted or nearly so, and when I come back from
walking fast and wishing to Gawd Jim was back to advise me and occupying
our flat instead of Germany, the fly-cop was still there by which I
became certain he was one; the more so as I watched him from a window
once I was in, and the way he kept camouflaging himself as a casual
passer-by, ended my doubts.

Well, was that some situation? It was! Here was myself, a good American
though but an ignorant woman, surrounded by all the terrible and
disturbing elements of the day; with everything which aught to be kept
out of every U. S. A. home creeping into mine, and all so sudden that I
hadn't got my breath yet much less any action. In fact, I was sort of
dizzy with what was happening, and my head didn't quiet down any when,
after dinner that night, I heard deep voices out in back.

"Anna has company!" says Ma in explanation. "Two of them, and I think
they are talking Russian. At any rate one has a beard almost as handsome
as Mr. Kiskoff's."

This got my angora, and while no lady would ever spy on her cook, this
was surely a exception and so I took a quiet peek in through the pantry
slide and there was Anna and two big he-men all talking at once. The
window was open a little ways from the top and on it was Frits, also
talking in Russian or something, and no earthly reason why he couldn't
take his liberty and go right out if he had really wanted it. And still
another jolt was handed me when I realised one of the men was our very
own ice-man!

Believe you me, when I went to bed that night in my grey French enameled
Empire style I was wore out with the series of jolts which the day has
handed me. But it is not my custom to sit back and talk things over too
long. I have ever noticed that the person which talks too much seldom
does a whole lot, and that a quick decision if wrong, at least learns
you something, and you can start again on the right track. And no later
than the next day after a funny, though good breakfast, of coffee and
new bread with cinnamon and sugar baked into it and herrings in cream,