“I don’t know what she did then,” said Lawrence. “I think she suddenly began to run down the passage. I know she was crying, ‘Paul! Paul! Paul!’... I never saw her again.”
The officer—an elderly kindly-looking man like a doctor or a lawyer (I am trying to give every possible detail, because I think it important)—then came up to Lawrence and asked him some questions:
“What was his name?”
“Jeremy Ralph Lawrence.”
“He was an Englishman.”
“Yes.”
“Working at the British Embassy?”
“No, at the British Military Mission.”
“He was officer?”
“Yes.”