Last week a twinkling-eyed, eccentric little man arrived at Paris and was greeted by a sprinkling of Russian Communists, a lone detective and an official of the French Foreign Office. Long after his train drew in, the little man remained seated in his compartment. When the crowd of travelers had quite cleared away, he stepped nimbly forth and was whirled away to a secret conference with M. Herriot and M. Briand, who were engaged at the moment chiefly in deciding which, if either of them, should be the next Premier of France (see FRANCE,...
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