And then an officer came down the steps, sprang to the footboard of the machine, and looked at Stewart.
“I am told you have a message,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I am a member of the French staff. Can you deliver it to me?”
“I was told to deliver it only to General Joffre.”
“Ah! in that case——”
The officer caught his lower lip between the thumb and little finger of his left hand, as if in perplexity. So naturally was it done that for an instant Stewart did not recognize the sign; then, hastily, he passed his left hand across his eyes.
The officer looked at him keenly.
“Have we not met before?” he asked.
“In Berlin; on the twenty-second,” Stewart answered.