It is perfectly simple. And when I get
over I shall write and tell you how.
"S.L."
It was the next day that an indignant official in the censor's office
read that postscript, and rose in his wrath and sent a third
Undersomething-or-other to look up Sara Lee at Morley's. But by this
time she was embarked on the big adventure; and by the time a cable
reached Calais there was no trace of Sara Lee.
During the afternoon she called up Mr. Travers at his office, and rather
gathered that he did not care to use the telephone during business hours.
"I just wanted to tell you that you need not bother about me any more,"
she said. "I am being sent over and I think everything is all right."
He was greatly relieved. Mrs. Travers had not fully indorsed his
encomiums of the girl. She had felt that no really nice girl would
travel so far on so precarious an errand, particularly when she was
alone. And how could one tell, coming from America, how her sympathies
really lay? She might be of German parentage--the very worst sort,
because they spoke American. It was easy enough to change a name.
Nevertheless, Mr. Travers felt a trifle low in his mind when he hung up
the receiver.
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