Do let's go and have that dinner you spoke of. I've got a
prison appetite."
At Ghent another delay and a few uneasy rumours. The Court was said
to be removing from Brussels and establishing itself at Antwerp. The
train at last drew into the main station at Brussels half an hour
after midnight. Vivie's mother was nowhere to be seen. She had
evidently gone back to the Villa Beau-sejour while she could. It was
too late for any tram in the direction of Tervueren. There were no
taxis owing to the drivers being called up. Leaving most of her
luggage at the cloak-room--it took her about three-quarters of an
hour even to approach the receiving counter--Vivie walked across to
the _Palace Hotel_ and asked the night porter to get her a room. But
every room was occupied, they said--Americans, British, wealthy war
refugees from southern Belgium, military officers of the Allies. The
only concession made to her--for the porter could hold out little
hope of any neighbouring hotel having an empty room--was to allow
her to sit and sleep in one of the comfortable basket chairs in the
long atrium. At six o'clock a compassionate waiter who knew the name
of Mrs. Warren gave her daughter some coffee and milk and a
_brioche_. At seven she managed to get her luggage taken to one of
the trams at the corner of the Boulevard du Jardin Botanique. The
train service to Tervueren was suspended--and at the Porte de Namur
she would be transferred to the No.
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