Various / 2008-06-27 00:00:00

She also
suggested that I might bring out a new hat for her (Geraldine's mother) at
the same time. Though being in love neither with Geraldine's mother nor
with Geraldine's mother's hat I had to take kindly to both, to further my
dark designs with regard to Geraldine.
In London I inspected the hat, complete in box. It was immediately obvious
that it and I could never make the journey to Paris together. The sight of
me carrying a hat-box at the early hour of 8 A.M. on Victoria Station would
have put Geraldine off. Geraldine is very pretty, but she is like that.
On reflection, the transport of the hat from London to Paris seemed to me
to be a matter eminently suited to the machinery of our Foreign Office.
Though the Foreign Officer is as formidable as a Bishop in his own
cathedral, he is, to those who persist in knowing him personally, a man
much like oneself, fond of his glass of beer, ready to exchange one good
turn for another. It happens that I have assisted the F.O. to make peace
much as I have helped the W.O. to make war. In the sacred precincts I
reminded my friend of this fact, and impressed upon him that the
consolidation of the _entente_ between Geraldine and myself was one of the
most urgent political matters of the day. He was undiplomatic enough to ask
how he could help ...
I don't want you to lose your awe of Diplomatic Bags, but there have been
occasions when the Secret and Confidential Despatch consists of little more
than a personal note from one strong silent man to another, touching on
such domestic subjects as, say, a relative's hat.
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