.. you know the sort of thing. I have always
been outspoken with you. All I ask is that mother shall be allowed
to stay in her own room while I am out, and have her meals served
there. But the hotel people are beginning to make a fuss about the
trouble, the lack of waiters. A word from you--And then if my mind
was at ease about her I could go out and do some good with the poor
people. They are getting very restive in the Marolles quarter--the
shocking bad bread, the lack of fuel--Most of all I should like to
help in the hospitals. My own countrywomen will not have me in
theirs. They suspect me of being a spy in German pay. Besides, your
von Bissing has ordered now that all Belgian, British, and French
wounded shall be taken to the German Red Cross. Well: if you want
to be kind, give me an introduction there. Surely it would be bare
humanity on your part to let an Englishwoman be with some of those
poor lads who are sorely wounded, dying perhaps"--she broke
down--"The other day I followed two of the motor ambulances along
the Boulevard d'Anspach. Blood dripped from them as they passed, and
I could hear some English boy trying to sing 'Tipperary--'"
"My _tear_ Miss Warren--I will try to do all that you want--You will
not do _anything I_ want, but never mind. I will show you that
Germans can be generous. I will speak about your mother. I am sorry
that there are bad-mannered Germans in the hotel.
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