She remembered an incident in Paris, when she had hailed a taxi.
"Are you an American?" asked the driver. "For you know I don't much like driving Americans."
"But I am English."
"Well, that's better. I was on the English Front once, driving for the
French Mission."
"Why don't you like Americans?"
"Among other things they give me two francs when three is marked!"
"But once they gave you ten where three was marked!"
"That's all changed!" laughed the taxi-man. "And it's a long story. I don't like them."
* * * * *
"Go away!" said France restlessly, pushing at the new nations in her bosom. "It's all done. Go back again!"