was relinquishing them. "Here, it is as if there were no authorities,"
he said with a touch of envy.

Mr. Direck induced him to expand that idea.

Herr Heinrich made Mr. Britling his instance. If Mr. Britling were a
German he would certainly have some sort of title, a definite position,
responsibility. Here he was not even called Herr Doktor. He said what he
liked. Nobody rewarded him; nobody reprimanded him. When Herr Heinrich
asked him of his position, whether he was above or below Mr. Bernard
Shaw or Mr. Arnold White or Mr. Garvin or any other publicist, he made
jokes. Nobody here seemed to have a title and nobody seemed to have a
definite place. There was Mr. Lawrence Carmine; he was a student of
Oriental questions; he had to do with some public institution in London
that welcomed Indian students; he was a Geheimrath--

"Eh?" said Mr. Direck.

"It is--what do they call it? the Essex County Council." But nobody took
any notice of that. And when Mr. Philbert, who was a minister in the
government, came to lunch he was just like any one else. It was only
after he had gone that Herr Heinrich had learnt by chance that he was a
minister and "Right Honourable...."

"In Germany everything is definite. Every man knows his place, has his
papers, is instructed what to do...."

"Yet," said Mr. Direck, with his eyes on the glowing roses, the neat
arbour, the long line of the red wall of the vegetable garden and a
distant gleam of cornfield, "it all looks orderly enough."