stupendous heroism. You never saw it; you don't want to see it. That you
never saw it we can understand; but that you shouldn't want to see it,
makes us see red. It was something that we did for you, and you take it
all for granted. You cheered us and jeered us into going because you
were frightened. You handed us white feathers if we hesitated. You
dragged us from our jobs and very often we were poor men, who had no
such financial security as was yours. You promised that if we would
share our lives with you, you'd go fifty-fifty with us on your financial
security. There wasn't time to have deeds of agreement drawn up; we took
you at your word. And what a lie it was! Why, I passed a blinded officer
in Regent Street to-day peddling shoe-laces. The day before a jobless
soldier threw himself beneath a train and his last words were, 'Over the
top and the best of luck.' There's a Colonel I see by to-night's paper
who's gone back to being a policeman. If you see a man in uniform
to-day, your unspoken thought is, 'For God's sake take it off.' I tell
you it's all wrong. It's that kind of ingratitude that leads to
revolution. You talk about the brutality of war; it's not a patch on the
brutality of peace. You treated men's lives as yours while the danger
lasted, but you insist that your possessions are your own now that it's
been averted."

He took a breath and glanced round.

Tabs was nodding unconscious approval. Terry's face reflected the fire
of his own passionate indignation and enthusiasm. The butler in the
shadows had turned his back non-committally and was making a pretense of
fiddling with the next course. Lady Beddow sat very upright and
startled, grasping her knife and fork as though they helped to support
her. The only person who was still doing justice to the meal was the
worn-out version of Shakespeare, who was responsible for the storm.

The silence seemed to call for a final climax. The ex-valet cleared his
throat. And it was to his ex-valet that Tabs listened; he had forgotten
the General. It was as though the grimness of reality had interrupted a
piece of play-acting. There was less heat in Braithwaite's voice now and
more reproach. "You said nothing about caste in those days, when you
hurried us to the shambles. You promised us---- What was it that you
promised us?"

"A kingdom round the corner," Tabs suggested. The next minute he felt
Terry's warm little hand clinging to his own beneath the tablecloth.