"Are you going to Russia?"
"Did you call on Shaw?"
They must have cabled over a set of questions. I went all over the catechism for them and managed to keep the "prop" grin at work. I wouldn't let them spoil Paris for me.
We escape after a bit, and back at the hotel I notice an air of formality creeping into the atmosphere as I hear voices in the parlour of my suite. Then my secretary comes in and announces that a very important personage is calling and would speak with me.
He enters, an attractive-looking gentleman, and he speaks English.
"Mr. Chaplin, that I am to you talk of greetings from the heart of the people with France, that you make laugh. Cannot you forego to make showing of yourself with charity sometime for devastated France? On its behalf, I say to you——"
I tell him that I will take it up later.
He smiles, "Ah, you are boozy."
"Oh, no. I haven't had a drink for several days," I hasten to inform him. "I am busy and want to get to bed early to-night."
But Malone butts in with, "Oh yes, he's very boozy."