I had kept my taxi, luckily for me as the motor-omnibuses were no longer running.
It was five o'clock. I went to the Rue des Beaux-Arts first. My father was not at home, so I left word with the old parlour-maid that I would be there for dinner that evening.
Many wants led me to a big shop. Nothing safer I thought than to buy one's outfit oneself. I was lucky enough to find what I wanted quickly, even in the boot line, where a crowd of people were being fitted.
Having finished my shopping, I called to my chauffeur:
"Rue du Helder!"
At the head office of the "Abyssinian Railway Company" my director welcomed me with open arms:
"My dear fellow! You're going? Oh, I thought as much! Rather rough on us! Duroty is going too. The best men, of course! I wonder whether we shan't have to shut up shop."
"And out there? How's the work getting on there?"
"Oh, well ... it's just got to go on. The workmen are natives. The engineers are the trouble.... Of course I ought to have had more sense and taken Englishmen!"
I went straight from there to the bank. It was shut. They were not seeing any one. Luckily Forgues, my stockbroker, hooked me as I was parleying in the waiting-room, and made me come in.