This, I admit, interested me
deeply. "When we get to Parry," said he, "we shall be met by Military
Police, and they will ask to see our papers. And if my papers weren't
in order and if I wasn't in order myself I should be put under arrest
and sent back again. And I don't mean to be sent back, and I have all
my papers in order and I'm in order myself." And, dash it all, the
fellow was right, and when we got to the Gare du Nord there were the
Military Police as large as life, and clearly there was no avoiding
them.
At first I didn't quite know what to do about it, but a little thought
decided me. "There are your M.P.," I said to the Corporal, as we
trooped slowly out of the dining-car. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you
to come along with me and interview one of them." Giving him no time
to argue, I led him straight to the Police Sergeant and insisted
upon this case being dealt with before all others. "I must ask you,
Sergeant, to make this man produce his papers. I have reason to doubt
whether he is in order."
The Corporal began to expostulate, but the Sergeant adopted the
none-of-that-I-know-all-about-your-sort attitude which is so
admirable in these officials.
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