My wonderful visit (1922)

I Arrive in London 77 ing up the Haymarket. People are looking and waving from their windows. I wave back. Crowded streets. We are nearing the Ritz, where I am to stop. The crowds are much denser here. I am at a loss. I don't know what to do, what to say. I stand up. I wave and bow at them, smile at them, and go through the motions of shaking hands, using my own hands. Should I say something.-* Can I say anything? I feel the genuineness of it all, a real warmth. It is very touching. This is almost too much for me. I am afraid I am going to make a scene. I stand up. The crowd comes to a hush. It is attentive. They see I am about to say something. I am surprised at my own voice. I can hear it. It is quite clear and distinct, saying something about its being a great moment, etc. But tame and stupid as it is, they like it. There is a '' Hooray !" '' Good boy, Charlie !'' Now the problem is how am I going to get out of this ? The police are there, pushing and shov- ing people aside to make way, but they are out- numbered. There are motion-picture cameras, cameras on the steps. The crowds close in. Then I step out. They close in. I am still smiling. I try to think of something useful, learned from my experience at the New York open- "^ing of '* The Three Musketeers." But I am not much help to my comrades. Then as we approach, the tide comes in towarc^