CHAPTER I
THE TRAVELLER
The war had stopped.
The King of England was in Paris, and the President of the United States was hourly expected.
Humbler guests poured each night from the termini into the overflowing city, and sought anxiously for some bed, lounge-chair, or pillowed corner, in which to rest until the morning. Stretched upon the table in a branch of the Y.W.C.A. lay a young woman from England whose clothes were of brand-new khaki,...
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