imagine"; and he signaled to the driver to stop for a moment, then added in a whisper: "What I want to say is that the King will not remain in England after you have left it..."

I answered him hotly: "He will stay; they will not let him go — no..." And Perry shook his head, repeating: "You are mistaken, Wallis. The King has decided to abdicate if Parliament does not grant his request, and no one will turn him from this resolve."

I looked at Perry in stupe-faction, then asked him what I was to do. He advised me to give up going to "Cannes" and to content myself with reaching "Belton," adding: "Your nearness is a comfort to the King; he will not feel that you have left him forever, and from Belton you can influence him, so that he will not rush into any decision."

And I came back to reality: David loses his head if anyone interferes with a plan he has drawn up. Perry knew that, and knew that he was embarking on a dangerous adventure which might cost him the King's confidence in him... yet he was ready to do anything to keep the King upon his throne.

I did not understand, at that moment, how my going to "Belton" instead of "Cannes" could change the situation; my separation from David was final, however near or far the distance between us; and I, who knew him well, was certain that no power could change the King's mind. And now, whatever happened, the blame would fall upon me: if the King abdicated, it would be thought that he had done it under my influence, and it would be said that I had brought it about out of fear of losing him forever.

And I said to him in my turn: "Consider that until this very morning I was a complete

stranger to the people of Britain; there is no one to defend me. But I am certain of one solution, and that is to get out of the King's way — and that is exactly what I am doing now."

Perry fell silent, and likewise he no longer discussed with me the subject of my going back to Belton. I was right to leave Britain; and as I crossed the Channel I forgot my own existence, which had turned into nothingness, and throughout the crossing to "Newhaven" I kept thinking how I might persuade the King to remain on the throne and give up the idea of marriage. I went over with Perry a list of the King's friends who might be able to influence him, and our choice fell on Lord Derby, for whom the King bore every respect. I tried to reach him by telephone, but could not; and soon I found myself in the suite Perry had reserved in the name of Mr. and Mrs. Harris. Thus the golden opportunity slipped from my hand, and we had to continue the journey to "Cannes." It was two o'clock in the morning when we reached the "Hôtel de la Poste," and fatigue had so overcome me that I could scarcely take off my clothes; I climbed onto the bed to recover some of my strength... and I was aware of nothing more until the hour a knock came at the door and Perry entered to wake me, assuring me that we were late. So I could not bathe to refresh myself; with lightning speed I drank a cup of tea, took a little food, and went down the stairs behind Perry, so that no one should notice my presence. Whenever I met a group of people, eyes would stare at me — those eyes I had come to avoid, and to fear. And when I got into the car, it was surrounded by a wall of strangers, all eager to look at me.

My mind returned to revolve around a single subject: reaching David. I began to wait for the first opportunity that would allow me to speak to him; I wanted to persuade him not to follow his emotion. But where could I stop without my identity being discovered, or the newspapers pursuing me? We even followed a special route on our way toward "Cannes," and passed through "Évreux." I knew the town from before, and knew a small hotel where we could stop without the passing cars catching sight of ours; and from there I spoke to him under the name of "Mr. James" — a name I had agreed upon with David for private calls — and I remember that I put into the call the following:

Mr. James must on no account compromise himself; he must consult the wise men and the old friends, among them Duff Cooper, Lord Derby, and the Aga Khan... and do not be hasty in taking any decision...

Meanwhile Perry was guard-ing the door... And I heard David's voice coming from far away, as though he were speak-ing to me from another world. He was astonished at my being in Évreux, so I let him know that we had done it in order to throw the press off the scent. I did not hear all that he said, and I understood afterward that he had tried to warn me against going on to "Cannes," because the French papers had learned the news of my journey, and the journalists had gathered in front of the Rogers villa awaiting me. My own voice likewise could not be heard, and I began shouting with all my strength; Perry came and helped me so that the warning might reach the King — but all he kept repeating was: "Why did we stop at Évreux?"