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egotist, and happier altogether.
    Her thoughts and Uncle Edward’s slow voice were interrupted by the American. He was still worried, but he was also excited. He began pacing the room, his hands plunged deeply into the pockets of his light-coloured tweed jacket.
    “I ’phoned the office twice,” he was saying quickly. “First time, no dice. Second time, after I made calls to the airport and station, they told me a blackout is rumoured. Some of the districts in the city are already dimming out. They want me to get to the broadcasting station at once, just in case. As for the plane to Bucharest, all civilian reservations are cancelled for the next twelve hours. Then I tried the station. Trains are needed for the army. Those for civilians are few and far between. I reachedBill Robertson, who had been covering the station, trying to get a news story that way. Bill says it’s hopeless. Stations jam-packed.” He looked at Sheila and shrugged his shoulders. “So what?” he said.
    Sheila’s dismay left her, perhaps because she felt he expected her to be dismayed. “You’d better go to the broadcasting station,” she said in a voice that was calmer than her thoughts. “I’ll go to the station and wait. That’s all that can be done, anyway.”
    “I’ll go with Miss Matthews,” Professor Korytowski said. “And if there isn’t a train available. Miss Matthews can have Barbara’s room until there is one. I think that would be better than a hotel in this emergency.” He looked towards Sheila for her acceptance. She gave him a thankful smile. That was one worry gone, anyway. A few days in a hotel, and there would be little money left to get her to Britain.
    Russell Stevens still stood undecided. He was obviously relieved at the quickness of their decisions, but he seemed reluctant to accept them. He looked at her for a moment. He knew determination when he saw it.
    “Hurry,” Sheila said. “You’ve wasted enough time on me already. And thank you very much for having wasted it.” There was a smile in the business-like grey eyes as he gripped her hand in his. And then his even, sure footsteps were running down the stone stairs.
    “Suitcases,” Sheila called after him from the landing. “No time. Leave them with Uncle Edward.” She saw Russell Stevens’ upturned face, saw a wave from his hand that he understood and agreed, and then he had disappeared into the courtyard. Professor Korytowski smiled as he struggled into a thin coat, which never seemed to get properly onto his large, stooping shoulders.
    “I have a nice niece, I hear,” he said as Sheila came back into the room.
    Sheila smiled, too. The “Uncle Edward” had slipped out so easily, so unconsciously. “I’m sorry—” she began.
    “Not at all, I like it. And I’ll see that your luggage is forwarded to you later. Now, I suppose we ought to leave, too. Are you sure you really want to go to the station, after Stevens’ information?”
    “Frankly, I don’t want to go. But I’ve promised everyone I would leave Warsaw tonight. So I suppose, I have to try at least. Just to satisfy my conscience.” She fumbled in her pocket, wondering if she should explain about Mr. Hofmeyer and the plane tickets. But Mr. Olszak turned the volume control on the wireless set, and said in his crisp voice, “Total blackout in fifteen minutes. That’s the latest announcement.”
    He looked at Sheila, gathering up her handbag and gloves. “Perhaps you shouldn’t go,” he said. “Not tonight.”
    “I’ll have to try, I’m afraid.”
    Mr. Olszak remained staring at the girl. “The resemblance is really very strong, in every way,” he said incredulously in Polish. Sheila looked puzzled. She didn’t quite understand. Perhaps she had misunderstood. She was tired, and Mr. Olszak spoke so quickly. Perhaps she had misunderstood.
    Certainly, Mr. Olszak was thinking of something else now. “I’ll wait for the others,” he said to Uncle Edward. “We’ll begin