Then one day as he sat at dinner a military escort knocked at his door and called him out.

‘But they coom for me,’ he went on, ‘at one o’clock they coom, just as I was settin’ down to my dinner they coom, and took me outside, and the orficer he said, “Now, A——, you’re soldier, and if you desert, you will be shot,” says he, and they took me away. I had often heard tell of abroad and I thought I would like to go, but I never thought abroad was like this. Just a sea o’ mood, abroad is! I don’t want to coom abroad no more.’

It was very easy for friends to come over from England, and many of them took advantage of the opportunity. They did not come empty-handed, and the hospital was supplied with games and gramophones, and with abundance of such things as water-beds and air-rings. Sir Alan Anderson arrived with a car load of pheasants, which were the last word in luxury. And work depots were kind in sending linen and warm clothing.

It was in this hospital that a suffragist friend met and recognised a wounded policemen. She claimed his acquaintance.

‘I remember you,’ she said. ‘You arrested me once in Whitehall.’

‘I wouldn’t have mentioned it, Miss,’ he replied with embarrassment. ‘We’ll let byegones be byegones.’

There was a constant stream of official visitors—colonels, inspectors and consultants—all of whom were more or less eager to pass men on—to send them to England or back to the line. The surgical work came in for a good deal of scrutiny; for the R.A.M.C. were zealous about the turn-over, and went round every week or sometimes oftener, with the desire of emptying beds. Through constant observation, it was borne in upon these officers that the professional work and the organisation of the women were worthy of a wider opportunity; and when the chance of saying a word of commendation came, that word was generously and freely said.

CHAPTER X
CLOSURE OF THE HOSPITAL IN THE HÔTEL CLARIDGE

Early in December trains of British sick and wounded were brought into Paris and the hospital on the Champs Élysées was filled to overflowing. In order to make additional accommodation, the large central hall had been closed in and furnished as a ward, and extra beds had been placed in the side wards.

The main problem, which became more pressing as the winter advanced, was how to procure enough coal to heat the huge building. The heating system was an extravagant one, for it was impossible to heat the hotel in sections, and if heat were raised for the ground floor, the whole of the seven stories had to participate, while the five great furnace boilers ate up the fuel with marvellous rapidity. It became necessary to introduce brazzeros into the wards. By this means the patients were kept fairly comfortable, although there were many objections to their use. A continual effort was required to secure enough fuel for cooking and for keeping the water hot, and neither M. Casanova nor M. Aubry nor M. Falcouz was successful in maintaining the supply.