just feel dead, and dead without a reason."

The cloud was very small now. The filmy edges of it were faintly rising
and falling like the seaweed frill of a rock in the sea. The witch kept
her eyes on her opponent's face, because to look anywhere else gave her
a white feeling in her head.

"Crusades of the high explosive kind," she said, "can work only on
battle-fields. Indeed, even on battle-fields--ah, what are we about,
what are we about? We are neither of us killing Evil, we are killing
youth...."

"I know, I know," wept the German witch. "My wizard fell at Vimy
Ridge...."

"You are talking magic at last," said our witch. "Dear witch, why don't
you go home and ask how it can be a good plan for one Crusader against
Evil to blow up another? How can two people be righteously scourging
each other at the same time? It is like the old problem of two serpents
eating each other, starting at the tail. There must be some
misunderstanding somewhere. Or else some real Evil somewhere."

"There is," said the German, recovering herself. "England is Evil.
England is the World Enemy. Throughout the ages she has been the Robber
State, crushing----"

But she had little luck. Once more she was interrupted by an explosion,
a much louder one, directly above them. Our witch hardly heard the
noise; she seemed suddenly to have found the climax of her life, and the
climax was pain. There was pain and a feeling of terrible change all