But don't think that I've turned into an official person. I'm doing what I can to help make a decent peace, and you and I are not very far apart.”
One of the clerks of the store came forward with inquiry in his manner, and Kurt asked for some gloves. Lanny turned and started to leave. But then he thought: “Maybe Kurt will think it over and change his mind.” So he waited, just inside the door of the store. When the other had completed his purchase and was going out, sure enough, he said: “You may come with me, sir, if you wish.”
VII
The two of them went out to the street, and walked in silence for quite a while, Kurt looking behind them to make sure they were not being followed. Then they would take a glance at each other. More than four years had passed since their last meeting in London; they had been boys and now they were men. The German officer had lines in his long thin face; he walked as if he were bowed with care — but of course that might have been because he was trying not to look like a military man. It was plain that he was deeply moved.
“Lanny,” he exclaimed, suddenly, “may I have your word of honor not to mention this meeting to any person under any circumstances?”
“I have an idea of your position, Kurt. You can trust me.”
“It is not merely a matter of my own life. It might have extremely unpleasant consequences for you.”
“I am willing to take the risk. I am sure that you are not doing anything dishonorable.”
They walked on; and finally Kurt broke out: “Forgive me if I am not a friend at present. I am bound by circumstances about which I cannot say a word. My time is not my own — nor my life.”
“I promise not to misunderstand,” replied the other. “Let me tell you about my job, and perhaps you can judge about trusting me.” He spoke in English, thinking it would be less likely to be caught by any passer-by. He told how he had come to be at the Crillon, and gave a picture of the Peace Conference as it appeared to a translator-secretary.