BELGIUM Education of a King
The Ford station wagon rolled slowly through the Brussels traffic, drew up in the Marolles quarter. Three men climbed out: a cleric, a middle-aged official and a young man in a brown raincoat. They looked at the miserable shelter of a rags-and-flowers merchant, walked on through one of the more squalid slums of Europe. In one street they met a group of children. "It's the King!" cried a child. "How do you know it's the King?" "It must be. He has such nice shoes." The children shyly touched the...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
