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the disagreeable world has denied them, out of malice! Such were the commissars; sometimes from the villages themselves, or from some small town near by. Where we were, one was actually the village idiot—a lumping youth, with one eye squinting, his mouth hanging open always, his nose dirty! It was he who had the idea of sending the old Countess to stand in the fields to frighten the birds.’
    For a moment or two Townsend was fairly silenced by the horror of this. At length, pulling himself together, he said, with an effort at lightness—
    â€˜I see that your nuns gave you a course in psychology, among other things!’
    â€˜Please?’
    â€˜Oh Hetta, you must learn not to say “Please”! Say “I beg your pardon?” or “Would you repeat that?”—anything but “please”!’
    â€˜Very well. Thank you for telling me. In German one says
bitte?
when one does not understand, but in English this is wrong?’ she asked.
    â€˜Yes. It’s—well, somehow it’s tiresome,’ he said, feeling ashamed. ‘I’m sorry.’
    â€˜Do not be. This helps me—I have so much to learn. Will you tell me again what I should say when I have not understood?’
    â€˜Well, I think “would you repeat that?” is about the best,’ Townsend said, quite abashed by her humility.
    â€˜Thank you.’
    â€˜Shall you feel up to meeting the Press tomorrow?’ he asked presently.
    â€˜Oh yes—I have told Mama I would.’
    â€˜Fine. I’ll tell Perce—our Press Attaché, you met him this morning—that I think it ought to be as full-dress as he can make it. It will be a big thing.’
    â€˜Can you tell me
why
one must speak to journalists?’ thegirl asked. ‘You and my mother both think so, but I do not really see why.’
    â€˜But—’ he paused, staggered by such ignorance. Then he began to expound the importance of publicity, the propaganda value of her story, so unique and fresh. Warming to his theme—‘I’m certain Radio Free Europe would love a recording of a talk by you,’ he said—‘You could do it in Hungarian, if you’d rather. And some articles, too—they’d be syndicated all over the States.’
    â€˜PI—I mean what does “syndicated” mean?’
    â€˜Printed in about seventy papers. It’s such a story!— the Press will eat it up.’
    She considered all this for a little while in silence; her first look of surprise changed then to one of mild and lightly charitable disdain.
    â€˜You mean, tell newspaper men, or write for newspapers, what I have told you?’
    â€˜Yes—exactly that.’
    â€˜No,’ Hetta said—and the single syllable again had a ring. ‘I told you because you have been kind, and saw that I was tired and hungry. But I will not make this “story”, as you call it, for journalists and the radio. What business is it of theirs?’
    â€˜I’ve just told you’—and again he tried to hammer home the importance of publicity and propaganda. But Hetta would have none of it.
    â€˜I feel all this to be quite false. If such things must be done, they should be done by people who know a great deal, and have importance. I am quite unimportant, and know nothing but what I have seen.’
    â€˜That’s the point—you
have
seen; you can tell the world.’ But Hetta would not give way; he was surprised both by her toughness, and at her reasons.
    â€˜If the world is to be told, it must be told by those who can speak with authority. The recollections of an ignorant girl are mere gossips.’
    The phrase made him laugh, but when he tried to press her further she quietly shut him up, saying—‘If I could help my country in any proper way, I would; but this— please forgive me—is to my mind foolish, and almost indecent.’
    â€˜Then you won’t