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Did they think at all； these men and women in the street？ What was
their attitude towards this vaguely threatened cataclysm？ Face after
face； stolid and apathetic； expressed nothing； no active desire；
certainly no enthusiasm； hardly any dread。 Poor devils！ The thing；
after all； was no more within their control than it was within the
power of ants to stop the ruination of their ant…heap by some passing
boy！ It was no doubt quite true； that the people had never had much
voice in the making of war。 And the words of a Radical weekly； which
as an impartial man he always forced himself to read； recurred to
him。 〃Ignorant of the facts； hypnotized by the words 'Country' and
'Patriotism'； in the grip of mob…instinct and inborn prejudice
against the foreigner； helpless by reason of his patience； stoicism；
good faith； and confidence in those above him； helpless by reason of
his snobbery； mutual distrust； carelessness for the morrow； and lack
of public spirit…in the face of War how impotent and to be pitied is
the man in the street！〃 That paper； though clever； always seemed to
him intolerably hifalutin'！
It was doubtful whether he would get to Ascot this year。 And his
mind flew for a moment to his promising two…year…old Casetta； then
dashed almost violently； as though in shame； to the Admiralty and the
doubt whether they were fully alive to possibilities。 He himself
occupied a softer spot of Government； one of those almost nominal
offices necessary to qualify into the Cabinet certain tried minds；
for whom no more strenuous post can for the moment be found。 From
the Admiralty again his thoughts leaped to his mother…in…law。
Wonderful old woman！ What a statesman she would have made！ Too
reactionary！ Deuce of a straight line she had taken about Mrs。 Lees
Noel！ And with a connoisseur's twinge of pleasure he recollected
that lady's face and figure seen that morning as he passed her
cottage。 Mysterious or not； the woman was certainly attractive！
Very graceful head with its dark hair waved back from the middle over
either templevery charming figure； no lumber of any sort！ Bouquet
about her！ Some story or other； no doubtno affair of his！ Always
sorry for that sort of woman！
A regiment of Territorials returning from a march stayed the progress
of his car。 He leaned forward watching them with much the same
contained； shrewd； critical look he would have bent on a pack of
hounds。 All the mistiness and speculation in his mind was gone now。
Good stamp of man； would give a capital account of themselves！ Their
faces； flushed by a day in the open； were masked with passivity； or；
with a half…aggressive； half…jocular self…consciousness； they were
clearly not troubled by abstract doubts； or any visions of the
horrors of war。
Someone raised a cheer 'for the Terriers！' Lord Valleys saw round him
a little sea of hats； rising and falling； and heard a sound； rather
shrill and tentative； swell into hoarse； high clamour； and suddenly
die out。 〃Seem keen enough！〃 he thought。 〃Very little does it！
Plenty of fighting spirit in the country。〃 And again a thrill of
pleasure shot through him。
Then； as the last soldier passed； his car slowly forged its way
through the straggling crowd； pressing on behind the regimentmen of
all ages； youths； a few women； young girls； who turned their eyes on
him with a negligent stare as if their lives were too remote to
permit them to take interest in this passing man at ease。
CHAPTER IV
At Monkland； that same hour； in the little whitewashed 'withdrawing…
room' of a thatched； whitewashed cottage； two men sat talking； one on
either side of the hearth； and in a low chair between them a dark…
eyed woman leaned back； watching； the tips of her delicate thin
fingers pressed together； or held out transparent towards the fire。
A log； dropping now and then； turned up its glowing underside； and
the firelight and the lamplight seemed so to have soaked into the
white walls that a wan warmth exuded。 Silvery dun moths； fluttering
in from the dark garden； kept vibrating； like spun shillings； over a
jade…green bowl of crimson roses； and there was a scent； as ever in
that old thatched cottage； of woodsmoke； flowers； and sweetbriar。
The man on the left was perhaps forty； rather above middle height；
vigorous； active； straight； with blue eyes and a sanguine face that
glowed on small provocation。 His hair was very bright； almost red；
and his fiery moustaches which descended to the level of his chin；
like Don Quixote's seemed bristling and charging。
The man on the right was nearer thirty； evidently tall； wiry； and
very thin。 He sat rather crumpled； in his low armchair； with hands
clasped round a knee； and a little crucified smile haunted the lips
of his lean face； which； with its parchmenty； tanned； shaven cheeks；
and deep…set； very living eyes； had a certain beauty。
These two men； so extravagantly unlike； looked at each other like
neighbouring dogs； who； having long decided that they are better
apart； suddenly find that they have met at some spot where they
cannot possibly have a fight。 And the woman watched； the owner； as
it were； of one； but who； from sheer love of dogs； had always stroked
and patted the other。
〃So； Mr。 Courtier；〃 said the younger man； whose dry； ironic voice；
like his smile； seemed defending the fervid spirit in his eyes； 〃all
you say only amounts； you see； to a defence of the so…called Liberal
spirit； and； forgive my candour； that spirit； being an importation
from the realms of philosophy and art； withers the moment it touches
practical affairs。
The man with the red moustaches laughed； the sound was queerat once
so genial and so sardonic。
〃Well put！〃 he said： 〃And far be it from me to gainsay。 But since
compromise is the very essence of politics； high…priests of caste and
authority； like you； Lord Miltoun； are every bit as much out of it as
any Liberal professor。〃
〃I don't agree！〃
〃Agree or not； your position towards public affairs is very like the
Church's attitude towards marriage and divorce； as remote from the
realities of life as the attitude of the believer in Free Love； and
not more likely to catch on。 The death of your point of view lies in
itselfit's too dried…up and far from things ever to understand
them。 If you don't understand you can never rule。 You might just as
well keep your hands in your pockets； as go into politics with your
notions！〃
〃I fear we must continue to agree to differ。〃
〃Well； perhaps I do pay you too high a compliment。 After all； you
are a patrician。〃
〃You speak in riddles； Mr。 Courtier。〃
The dark…eyed woman stirred； her hands gave a sort of flutter； as
though in deprecation of acerbity。
Rising at once； and speaking in a deferential voice； the elder man
said
〃We're tiring Mrs。 Noel。 Good…night； Audrey； It's high time I was
off。〃 Against the darkness of the open French window； he turned
round to fire a parting shot。
〃What I meant； Lord Miltoun； was that your class is the driest and
most practical in the Stateit's odd if it doesn't save you from a
poet's dreams。 Good…night！〃 He passed out on to the lawn； and
vanis