en blown out.

They're all certainly very kind to me, the people I've met here, and
say the nicest things about England. They're in love with her, as I
used to tell Frau Berg's boarders, but openly and enthusiastically, not
angrily and reluctantly as the boarders were. I've not heard so many
nice things about England ever as I did yesterday. I loved hearing
them, and felt all lit up.

We went out on the balcony overlooking the Thiergarten after dinner.
The Graf's chief had sent for him, and Bernd and some of the men had
gone away too, but more people kept dropping in and joining us on the
balcony watching the crowds. The Brandenburger Thor is close on our
left, and the Reichstag is a stone's throw across the road on our
right. When the crowd saw the officers in our group, they yelled for
joy and flung their hats in the air. The Colonel, in his staff
officer's uniform, was the chief attraction. He seemed unaware that
there was a crowd, and talked to me in much the same hilarious and
flowery strain he had talked at the Oberforsterei, saying a great
number of things about hair and eyes and such. I know I've got hair
and eyes; I've had them all my life, so what's the use of wasting time
telling me about them? I tried all I knew to get him to talk about
what he really thought of the chances of war, but quite in vain.

Do you know what time it is? Nearly eight, and the _Deutschland uber
Alles_ business has already started in the streets. There are little
crowds of people, looking so tiny and black, not a bit as if they were
real, and had blood in them and could be hurt, already on the steps of
the Reichstag eagerly reading the morning papers. I must get dressed
and go down and hear if anything fresh has happened. Good-bye my own
loved mother,--I'll write whenever I get a moment. And don't forget,
mother darling, that if you're worried about my being here I'll start
straight off for Switzerland. But if you're not worried I wouldn't
like to interrupt my lessons. They really are very important things
for our future.

Your Chris.

_Berlin, Friday afternoon, July 31st_.

My sweetest mother,

Your letters have been following me about, to Koseritz and to Frau
Berg's, where of course you didn't know I wouldn't be. I went to Frau
Berg's today and found your last two. I love you, my precious mother,
and thank you for all your dearness and sweet unselfish understanding
about Bernd and me. You have a