do more by standing out. We're not pledged. Anderson told me Asquith said
so distinctly. And, thank God, the Fleet's ready! It's madness, madness,
and we must keep our heads. That's what I say, anyway."

Graham cracked an egg mechanically. His sermon was coming back to him.
He saw a congregation of Lessings, and more clearly than ever the other
things. "What about Belgium?" he queried. "Surely our honour is engaged
there?"

Mr. Lessing pulled up his napkin, visibly perturbed. "Yes, but what can
we do?" he demanded. "What is the good of flinging a handful of troops
overseas, even if we can? It's incredible--English troops in Flanders in
this century. In my opinion--in my opinion, I say--we should do better to
hold ourselves in readiness. Germany would never really dare antagonise
us. They know what it involves. Why, there's hundreds of millions of
pounds at stake. Grey has only to be firm, and things must come right.
Must--absolutely must."

"Annie said, this morning, that she heard everyone in the
streets last night say we must fight, father," put in Hilda.

"Pooh!" exclaimed the city personage, touched now on the raw. "What do
the fools know about it? I suppose the _Daily Mail_ will scream, but,
thank God, this country has not quite gone to the dogs yet. The people,
indeed! The mass of the country is solid for sense and business, and
trusts the Government. Of course, the Tory press will make the whole
question a party lever if it can, but it can't. What! Are we going to be
pushed into war by a mob and a few journalists? Why, Labour even will be
dead against it. Come, Graham, you ought to know something about that.
More in your line than mine--don't you think so?"