An indignant "Impossible" was the answer.

"Why not ?" I asked.
The look of contempt with which the clerks gazed on me was expressive.
It meant, "Do you really imagine that a functionary--a postman--is going to forward your letters in an irregular manner ?" At this moment a sort of young French Jefferson Brick came in.

Evidently he was a Republican recently set in authority.

To him I turned.

"Citizen, I want my letter to go to London.