you shall not go to Boulogne."

"Not go!" She stopped dead, under the monument, and looked up at him.

"The place for you to go, to start from, is Calais," Henri explained.
He paused, to let pass two lovers, a man in khaki and a girl. "But
Calais is difficult. It is under martial law--a closed city. From
Boulogne to Calais would be perhaps impossible."

Sara Lee was American and her methods were direct.

"How can I get to Calais?"

"Will you take the chance I spoke of?"

"For goodness' sake," said Sara Lee in an exasperated tone, "how can I
tell you until I know what it is?"

Henri told her. He even, standing under a street lamp, drew a small
sketch for her, to make it clear. Sara Lee stood close, watching him,
and some of the lines were not as steady as they might have been. And
in the midst of it he suddenly stopped.

"Do you know what it means?" he demanded.

"Yes, of course."

"And you know what date this is?"

"The eighteenth of February."