"
She crossed to the wall with her bucket.
Standing upon the waste ground was an old, closed limousine whose engine
had long been injured past repair. One of the glass windows was broken,
but it was as roomy and comfortable as a first-class railway carriage,
and the men often sat in it in a spare moment.
The yard cleared suddenly for the eleven o'clock meal. As Fanny passed
the limousine a man appeared at the broken window and beckoned to her.
His face was white, and he wore his shirt, trousers, and braces. She
stopped short with the bucket in her hand.
"On est delivre de cette bande!" he said, pointing to the yard, and she
went a little nearer.
"Wait till I get my coat on," he said softly to her, and struggled into
his coat.
He put both his hands on the window ledge, leant towards her, and said
clearly: "Je suis le president Wilson."
"You are the President Wilson," she echoed, hunting for the joke, and
willing to smile. He passed her out his water-bottle and a tin box. "You
must fill these for me," he said. "Fill the bottle with wine, and get me
bread and meat. Be quick. You know I must be off. The King expects me."
Where have you come from?"
"I slept here last night. I have come far. But I must be quick now, for
it's late, and ... I believe in Freedom!" he finished emphatically.
"Well, will you wait till I have made you up a parcel of food?"
"Only be quick.
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