They were full of the row in the Near East, and there was an article about Karolides, the Greek Premier.
I rather fancied the chap.

From all accounts he seemed the one big man in the show; and he played a straight game too, which was more than could be said for most of them.

I gathered that they hated him pretty blackly in Berlin and Vienna, but that we were going to stick by him, and one paper said that he was the only barrier between Europe and Armageddon.

I remember wondering if I could get a job in those parts.
It struck me that Albania was the sort of place that might keep a man from yawning.
About six o'clock I went home, dressed, dined at the Cafe Royal, and turned into a music-hall.

It was a silly show, all capering women and monkey-faced men, and I did not stay long.