f at last before a table where bearded men in uniforms were
splashing open the big pink sheets of the English passports: she
felt strange and uneasy, that her passport was unimpressive and
Italian. The official scrutinized her, and asked questions of
Ciccio. Nobody asked her anything--she might have been Ciccio's
shadow. So they went through to the vast, crowded cavern of a
Customs house, where they found their porter waving to them in the
mob. Ciccio fought in the mob while the porter whisked off Alvina to
get seats in the big train. And at last she was planted once more in
a seat, with Ciccio's place reserved beside her. And there she sat,
looking across the railway lines at the harbour, in the last burst
of grey sunshine. Men looked at her, officials stared at her,
soldiers made remarks about her. And at last, after an eternity,
Ciccio came along the platform, the porter trotting behind.

They sat and ate the food they had brought, and drank wine and tea.
And after weary hours the train set off through snow-patched country
to Paris. Everywhere was crowded, the train was stuffy without being
warm. Next to Alvina sat a large, fat, youngish Frenchman who
overflowed over her in a hot fashion. Darkness began to fall. The
train was very late. There were strange and frightening delays.
Strange lights appeared in the sky, everybody seemed to be listening
for strange noises. It was all such a whirl and confusion that
Alvina lost count, relapsed into a sort of stupidity. Gleams,
flashes, noises and then at last the frenzy of Paris.

It was night, a black city, and snow falling, and no train that
night across to the Gare de Lyon. In a state of semi-stupefaction
after all the questionings and examinings and blusterings, they
were finally allowed to go straight across Paris. But this meant
another wild tussle with a Paris taxi-driver, in the filtering snow.
So they were deposited in the Gare de Lyon.

And the first person who rushed upon them was Geoffrey, in a rather
grimy private's uniform. He had already seen some hard service, and
had a wild, bewildered look. He kissed Ciccio and burst into tears
on his shoulder, there in the great turmoil of the entrance hall of
the Gare de Lyon. People looked, but nobody seemed surprised.
Geoffrey sobbed, and the tears came silently down Ciccio's cheeks.

"I've waited for you since five o'clock, and I've got to go back
now. Ciccio! Ciccio! I wanted so badly to see you. I shall never see