I made a mystery of the pass, saying it was very confidential, but the red seal satisfied him.

He bade me courteously to take the seat at his side, and with intense satisfaction I heard him command his orderly to get down and fetch my knapsack.

The general was going, he said, only so far as Hal, but that far he would carry me.

Hal was the last town named in my pass, and from Brussels only eleven miles distant.
According to the schedule I had laid out for myself, I had not hoped to reach it by walking until the next day, but at the rate the car had approached I saw I would be there within two hours.

My feelings when I sank back upon the cushions of that car and stretched out my weary legs and the wind whistled around us are too sacred for cold print.