God made the love of men and women, then men and women created their
countries.
I see the future before me, Karl, and I foresee that the struggle will
be at the end of all things, between England and Germany. One will be
in the dust.
Thus, I crossed to England and was swallowed up in the great city of
London. England has always had a corner of her calculating heart for
the small nations, and in London there is a Polish organization. I
applied there, and one day I was taken to the Foreign Office, and found
myself alone with a great Englishman. His name was--No, I promised, and
it will not matter to you, for though he gave me my chance, I have no
love for him, and he will never be in your power. Even as I write these
words, he has probably taken a list from a locked safe and neatly ruled
a red line through the name Zoe Sbeiliez. I tell you they know
everything, these Englishmen. I told him my story, and then he asked me
whether I was prepared to do all things for the Allies. I told him I
was. He then said that I could go as agent for a back area in Belgium,
and my centre would be Bruges. I agreed, and asked him innocently
enough how I was to live in Bruges. He looked up from his desk and
said:
"You will be given facilities to cross the Belgium-Holland frontier, as
a German singer."
"And then?" I asked.
"You will go to Bruges and make friends with an Army officer; he must
be high up on the staff."
I guessed what he meant, but hoped against hope, and I said: "How?"
I can still see his fish-like face, hair brushed back with scrupulous
care, as without a shadow of emotion he looked up, puffed his pipe, and
said in matter-of-fact tones:
"You have a pretty face and an excellent figure.
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