ed on his face. "Of which much maligned substitute for war
you doubtless regard me as one of the High Priests?"

"Such is the general opinion, Mr. Ramage."

"And you think," returned the other after a moment, "that the idea was
so completely wrong as to have justified the holders of the opposite
view expending--what, another two . . . three million lives?" . . .

"I am afraid," answered Vane a little curtly, "that I'm in no position
to balance any such account. The issues involved are a little above my
form. All I do know is, that our dead would have turned in their
graves had we not completed their work. . . .'

"I wonder?" said the other slowly. "It always seems to me that the
dead are saddled with very blood-thirsty opinions. . . . One sometimes
thinks, when one is in a particularly foolish mood, that the dead might
have learned a little common sense. . . . Very optimistic, but
still. . . ."

"If they have learned anything," answered Vane gravely, "our dead over
the water--they have learned the sublime lesson of pulling together.
It seems a pity, Mr. Ramage, that a few of 'em can't come back again
and preach the sermon here in England."

"Wouldn't it be too wonderful?" chirruped their hostess. "Think of
going to St. Paul's and being preached to by a ghost. . . ." For the
past minute she had been shooting little bird-like glances at a
neighbouring table, and now she leaned forward impressively. "There
are some people over there, Mr. Ramage, and I'm sure they recognise
you." This was better, far better, than feeding a hen in the
drawing-room.

He turned to her with a faintly amused smile. "How very annoying for
you! I am so sorry. . . . Shall I go away, and then you can discuss
my sins in a loud voice with Captain Vane?"

Nancy Smallwood shook an admonishing finger at him, and sighed
pathetically. "Do go on talking, you two. I do so love to hear about
these things, and I'm so stupid myself. . . ."

"For Heaven's sake, Nancy," laughed Vane, "don't put me amongst the
highbrows. I'm groping . . . crumbs from rich man's table sort of
business."

"Groping?" Ramage glanced at him across the table.

"Yes," said Vane taking the bull by the horns. "Wondering why the
devil we fought if the result is going to be anarchy in England. Over
there everybody seems to be pals; here. . . . Great Scott!" He
shrugged his shoulders. After a while he went on--"Over there we got
rid of class hatred; may I a