To-day’s article should bring things to a head very shortly. Shall be very glad when it is over and I can rest a little. Took some bicarbonate of soda.
Armistice signed. Spent the day in a kind of triumphal procession from restaurant to restaurant, at each of which I was hailed with applause.
Reached Versailles and let the news be known. A visible quickening up already to be noted.
Sent for President Wilson, but something must have prevented his coming. Lunched at Paillard’s and dined at Larue’s. Saw an amusing Palais Royal farce.
June 28th, 1920.—Treaty of Peace, for which I have worked so long, signed at last. Now I can utter my Nunc Dimittis, having accomplished the two ends I had in view—to bring the first world War to a more or less satisfactory finish and to make it dangerous for any but the deaf and dumb to dine out.