conversation; it was really the only thing to do. Had the Commandant
and I been opposite each other we should probably have dined in polite
silence. But the Corporal was one of those red-faced burly people with
whom you have, if you are close to them, either to laugh or fight.

The Commandant was not inwardly afraid; he was innately polite. He
talked pleasantly to his _vis-a-vis_. The Corporal, a trifle abashed
at first, listened deferentially, but as the good food enlivened him
he ceased to be abashed and became cordial. From cordial he became
affable, from affable affectionate, and from affectionate he passed to
that degree of friendship in which you lean across the dinner-table,
tap a man on the shoulder and call him "old pal." Finally, he insisted
upon the Commandant cracking with him a bottle of champagne. I give
the Commandant full marks for not persisting in his refusal.

A draught or two of champagne has, as you may be aware, the effect of
developing to an extreme any friendly feelings you may at the moment
happen to possess ...

The train chanced to stop just after dinner was finished, and the
Commandant, seizing his opportunity, hurriedly paid his bill and got
into another carriage. My _vis-a-vis_ also left the car, though I must
confess that I had not stood _him_ so much as a glass of beer. I and
the Canadian Corporal were left facing each other, and the position
was such that I couldn't avoid his eye. I had no feelings with regard
to him, but I simply could not smile at him, since I do not like
champagne. So I suppose I must have frowned at him; anyhow, he came
along and sat down at my table in order to explain at length that he
was not drunk.

He wasn't drunk, and I had never said he was, and I was not in the
least interested in his theme, until he got to the point of what his
main reason was for not being drunk. This, I admit, interested me
deeply. "When we get to Parry," said he, "we shall be met by Military
Police, and they will ask to see our papers. And if my papers weren't
in order and if I wasn't in order myself I should be put under arrest
and sent back again. And I don't mean to be sent back, and I have all
my papers in order and I'm in order myself." And, dash it all, the
fellow was right, and when we got to the Gare du Nord there were the
Military Police as large as life, and clearly there was no avoiding
them.

At first I didn't quite know what to do about it, but a little thought
decided