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May-31st.

Drove through Paris for the last time, on the way to the station. The women of the Halles were busy pushing their waggons through the streets.

Alice waiting at the station. A delightful ride to Antwerp. The carriage to ourselves most of the time. Alice looking up the churches & points of interest in the guide book and making notes.

Wished we could stop at Malines. Arrived at Antwerp we descended gayly. The porter glad of a bottle of beer, or what was left of it, Alice having caused an explosion over Aunty dress by jamming the cork in tight against the carriage door. All the way up the platform the beer kept pouring out of the mouth of the [[strikeout]] bottle [[/strikeout]] bottle where it dangled in the pocket of the porter's apron. We could hardly walk for laughing.

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[[underline]] Antwerp [[/underline]]

Hotel de la Fleur d'or.
Right under the cathedral bells! We rushed to the window to hear the first chimes. Such an "ancient village" effect.

The woman talks in a slow comfortable voice - ah oui, for oui! English about as well as French.

Alice far from well. What a fearful bor ill health is. The pleasure of going about the city was quickly spoiled for me because Alice could not go without getting neuralgia in the cold winds.

Went onto [[written over the word "through"]] the bridge of the port alone at sunset. Such a view down the river, with the fatal red star line steamer in the distance. A gendarme pointed her out to me.

Other travelers were walking about and wondering like myself who were to be their fellow passengers. Walked into the Steen Musée which looked astonishingly fine, & from the other side I caught sight of the red & white bricks of the "vieilles Boucheries" shining in the sun. Took it to be