"My poor little Freda!"
"And that's how it was," Noel concluded. They shook hands again, strongly.
"Well, good luck!" said Noel.
Petrovitch bowed.
They never saw each other again.
In the cab, driving back to Connie's quiet little hotel, Noel wanted to put his head out of the window and shout to the passers-by. He could hardly contain himself.
"Freda," he said aloud, "when I get to Berlin, whether you're alive or dead I'm going to send you the biggest box of chocolates I can buy!"
