The French houses and fishing-boats looked foreign, although one could hardly say why.

On the quay was a big notice: "All officers to report at once to the M.L.O." Farther on was a board bearing the letters "R.T.O." ...

But Peter hardly liked to ask.
In fact, everything went like clockwork.

He presently found himself in a queue, behind Donovan, of officers who were passing a small window like a ticket office.

Arriving, he handed in papers, and was given them back with a brief "All right." Beyond, Donovan had secured a broken-down-looking one-horse cab.