human
Is it Mrs. Otway? She stopped, and answered, not very graciously,
gpt
Yes, I'm Mrs. Otway--who is it?
human
I don't wonder you didn't know me! It's impossible to see anything by this light. I've been having such an adventure! I only came back from Holland yesterday. I went to meet a young niece of mine there--you know, the girl who was in Germany so long.
gpt
In Germany? Mrs. Otway turned round eagerly.
human
Is she with you now? How I should like to see her!
gpt
I'm afraid you can't do that. She's gone to Scotland. I sent her off there last night. Her parents have been nearly frantic about her!
human
Did she see--did she hear anything of the English prisoners while she was in Germany?
gpt
Oh, no! She was virtually a prisoner herself. But I hear a good deal of information is coming through--I mean unofficial information about our prisoners. My sister--you know, Mrs. Vereker--is working at that place they've opened in London to help people whose friends are prisoners in Germany. She says they sometimes obtain wonderful results. They work in with the Geneva Red Cross, and from what I can make out, it's really better to go there than to write to the Foreign Office. I went and saw my sister yesterday, when I was coming through London. I was really most interested in all she told me--such pathetic, strange stories, such heart-breaking episodes, and then now and again something so splendid and happy! A girl came to them a fortnight ago in dreadful trouble, every one round her saying her lover had been killed at Mons, though she herself hoped against hope. Well, only yesterday morning they were able to wire to her that he was safe and well, being kindly treated too, in a fortress, far away, close to the borders of Prussia and Poland! Wasn't that splendid?
human
What is the address of the place, asked Mrs. Otway in a low tone,
gpt
It's in Arlington Street--No. 20, I think.