I made another attempt to reach David, but I spent an hour without getting anywhere, and I returned to the car with my strength exhausted.

So too was my companion. When we reached Blois, in the valley of the river Loire, it was seven o'clock, the darkness was pitch black, and the snow was falling heavily, so we decided to pass the night at the Hotel de Guise... Before I went to sleep, I heard Perry knocking at the door of my room to tell me that twenty jour-nalists were encircling the hotel, with their cameras and all their gear, and that some of them had stretched out on the hotel's chairs or tables. To throw them off, he told the hotel keeper, within their hearing, that we would be leaving at nine in the morning. Then he came back to me and said: we must leave before dawn. He then bribed one of the porters to bring us coffee at three in the morning and lead us out by the back door. On tiptoe we went out at that dark hour until we reached the Buick. One of the journalists lay sound asleep in our path; our driver approached the car and moved it off without the journalist stirring from his sleep.

The weather was foul, and after four hours we managed to reach Moulins, where we had our breakfast. Before we continued our journey, Perry sent two telegrams.

I learned afterward that one was to Walter Monckton and the other to Lord Beaverbrook, and in it he expressed his confidence that the crisis would pass if the King post-poned the matter of his marriage for at least a year.

We drove at tremendous speed until we reached the valley of the Rhone, on the outskirts of Lyon. Fatigue had got the better of the driver and he lost the way; here he appealed to a passerby, who was kind to the point of giving us every detail. Standing near him was a friend of his, who was looking into our car as though he were watching a scene at the movies; then all at once he cried out: "It's the lady...!" His cry was followed by the cries of the passersby, who came crowding around our car, which shot off racing the wind. This incident, for all its absurdity, had a deep effect on me: I was no longer Wallis Simpson or any other woman — I had become "the woman" who bears the distinguish-ing mark... It seems the shouting reached every corner of the streets of Lyon, for faces stared at us and cars stopped on both sides of the road. We learned that the press had discovered our whereabouts; at last we were caught in the trap we had been trying to avoid through-out our journey. We were speeding toward Vienne, and we turned in at the "Pyramids" restaurant at three o'clock, with the chase at our

heels grown fiercer. None of the journalists pressed me to make any statement, but the look of triumph that rose to their faces was not lost on me: they had at last managed to fasten themselves to my skirts.

I went with Madame Point, the proprietress of the restaurant, to her private room, and she left me there while she prepared my lunch. In the meantime I managed to reach David by telephone, and I repeated to him the earlier conver-sations. This time he understood what I said, but he showed no sign of being pleased.

Madame Point managed to rescue us, for the journalists had grown hungry and ordered a lunch, which she prepared for them while we were in a private room. That lady was confident that the delicious dishes her kitchen served were enough to keep a man occupied for a while. She came back to us with her well-laid plan: we were to go out through a very small window. I squeezed myself and my body through until I passed, while Perry and his companions stood on the ground below, waiting for my arrival to catch me in their arms. Had the gymnastics mistress of my high school seen me, she would have awarded me a grand prize for that singular exercise! The main thing is that I got through; but Perry, who never lacks a sense of humor, commented on this by saying: "What a pity that Stanley Baldwin did not witness this performance!"

As the car moved off with us, the voices of the journalists drifted to our ears as they ate their meal with relish, waiting for an effortless prize... We headed toward "Ladbroke." Fatigue and drowsiness had overtaken us all, and I could not believe that I had left the Fort only two days before, and that all these...