Prohack was among the chief arbiters of destiny for them. He had daily
sat in a chair by himself and approved or disapproved according to his
conscience and the rules of the Exchequer; and his fiats, in practice,
had gone forth as the fiats of the Treasury. Moreover he could not be
bullied, for he was full of the sense that the whole constitution and
moral force of the British Empire stood waiting to back him. Scarcely
known beyond the Treasury, within the Treasury he had acquired a
reputation as "the terror of the departments." Several times irritated
Ministers or their high subordinates had protested that the Treasury's
(Mr. Prohack's) passion for rules, its demands for scientific evidence,
and its sceptical disposition were losing the war. Mr. Prohack had, in
effect retorted: "Departmentally considered, losing the war is a
detail." He had retorted: "Wild cats will not win the war." And he had
retorted: "I know nothing but my duty."

In the end the war was not lost, and Mr. Prohack reckoned that he
personally, by the exercise of courage in the face of grave danger, had
saved to the country five hundred and forty-six millions of the
country's money. At any rate he had exercised a real influence over the
conduct of the war. On one occasion, a chief being absent, he had had to
answer a summons to the Inner Cabinet. Of this occasion he had remarked
to his excited wife: "They were far more nervous than I was."

Despite all this, the great public had never heard of him. His portrait
had never appeared in the illustrated papers. His wife's portrait, as
"War-worker and wife of a great official," had never appeared in the
illustrated papers. No character sketch of him had ever been printed.
His opinions on any subject had never been telephonically or otherwise
demanded by the editors of up-to-date dailies. His news-value indeed was
absolutely nil. In _Who's Who_ he had only four lines of space.