THE SUEZ conference has so far been conducted in an
atmo- sphere of urbanity. There have been no scenes and few curt rejoinders. We are far indeed from the days when Clemenceau could tell the Rumanian Prime Minister to sit down and shut up. Among the press, however, this calm has not been un- broken. In a recent post-conference briefing, journalists were startled by a loud cry of 'Don't push me, you old b—' uttered in a strong American accent, and directed at a perfectly harm- less official who was making his way to the front of the room to take a note to the spokesman on the platform. But I don't find it at all surprising that journalists become paranoid. Their patience is sometimes sorely tried. Arriving breakfastless and twenty minutes early for Mr. Krishna Menon's nine o'clock press conference, some of them tried in vain to extract a cup of coffee from the luxury hotel where this event was taking place—only to be told that residents only could be served. After incidents like this—which seems to go far to prove the much-debated case against British hotels—there is no wonder that the best of us become mere bombs liable to go off at Foreign Office officials at any moment.
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