23 July 1916
In Bakery Street in the center of Valetta, he understood he was being followed. He had to walk seven miles in the night on muddy roads, his feet were killing him, his stomach was protesting, he couldn’t return to the room at the inn because he had lost his wallet and now someone was tailing him. He rushed into the first bakery open before him and with his last few cents he emptied his pockets from, he bought a bagel. He ate it while checking the traffic from inside the shop window. This guy stopped right there and then and stood by the corner opposite, hidden behind his newspaper. He chivalrously held the door open for an attractive British nurse and then he followed her out. He was still there. Who the hell was this guy? He crossed the street at right angles and strode swift
