the world." I tried to
interrupt him, but he went on, his voice ever rising and rising: "What
is your wretched German war? What but a struggle between the capitalists
of the different countries to secure greater robberies and extortions,
to set their feet more firmly than ever on the broad necks of the
wretched People! Yes, you English, with your natural hypocrisy, pretend
that you are fighting for the freedom of the world. What about Ireland?
What about India? What about South Africa?... No, you are all alike.
Germany, England, Italy, France, and our own wretched Government that
has, at last, been destroyed by the brave will of the People. We declare
a People's War!... We cry aloud to the People to throw down their arms!
And the People will hear us!"

He paused for breath. His arms were raised, his eyes on fire, his cheeks
crimson.

"Yes," I said, "that is all very well. But suppose the German people are
the only ones who refuse to listen to you. Suppose that all the other
nations, save Germany, have thrown down their arms--a nice chance then
for German militarism!"

"But the German people will listen!" he screamed, almost frothing at the
mouth. "They are ready at any moment to follow our example. William and
your George and the rest of them--they are doomed, I tell you!"

"Nevertheless," I went on, "if you desert us now by making peace and
Germany wins this war you will have played only a traitor's part, and
all the world will judge you."

"Traitor! Traitor!" The word seemed to madden him. "Traitor to whom,
pray? Traitor to our Czar and your English king? Yes, and thank God for
it! Did the Russian people make the war? They were led like lambs to the
slaughter. Like lambs, I tell you. But now they will have their revenge.
On all the Bourgeoisie of the world. The Bourgeoisie of the world!..."

He suddenly broke off, flinging himself down on the dirty sofa. "Pheugh.
Talking makes one hot!... Have a drink, Ivan Andreievitch.... Nina,
fetch a drink."

Through all this my eyes had never left her for a moment. I had hoped
that this empty tub-thumping to which we had been listening would have
affected her. But she had not moved nor stirred.

"Nina!" I said softly. "Nina. Come with me!"

But she only shook her head. Grogoff, quite silent now, lolled on the
sofa, watching us. I went up to her and put my hand on her sleeve.

"Dear Nina," I said, "come back to us."

I saw her lip tremble. There was unshed tears in he