When the officer returned with the chaperon he found the hairdresser sitting opposite to them, explaining that he really was not hurt, and suggesting that, as they were there, perhaps they would like something to eat and drink.
The girls made one last frantic appeal to the man of buckram and pipeclay, but the etiquette of the Saxon Army was inexorable.

It transpired that he might kill the hairdresser, but nothing else: he must not speak to him--not even explain to the poor devil why it was that he was being killed.
Her path of Usefulness.
It did not seem quite worth it.

They had some sandwiches and coffee at the hairdresser's expense, and went home in a cab: while the chaperon had breakfast with the officer of noble family.
The American girl has succeeded in freeing European social intercourse from many of its hide-bound conventions.

There is still much work for her to do.

But I have faith in her..