k in the morning room and
proceeded about her duties and her engagements. But she liked unfolding
them and she was thoroughly annoyed with the insufferable Jones for
preventing her from unfolding them. She said she would come down into
Tidborough and speak to Jones herself.

"Yes, do," said Sabre. "There'll be things to see."

There were things to see. As he rode into the town people were standing
about in little groups, excitedly talking; every one seemed to have a
newspaper. In a row, as he approached the news agent's, were hugely
printed contents bills, all with the news, in one form or another, "War
Declared."

It _was_ war. Yesterday no dream. He could not stop to rest his bicycle
against the curb. He leant it over and dropped it on the pavement with a
crash and hurried into the shop and bought and read.

War.... He looked out into the street through the open doorway. All
those knots of people standing talking. War.... A mounted orderly passed
down the street at a brisk trot, his dispatch bag swaying and bumping
across his back. Every one turned and stared after him, stepped out into
the roadway and stared after him. War.... He bought all the morning
papers and went on to the office. Outside a bank a small crowd of people
waited about the doors. They were waiting to draw out their money. Lloyd
George had announced the closing of the banks for three days; but they
didn't believe it was real. Was it real? He passed Hanbury's, the big
grocer's. It seemed to be crammed. People outside waiting to get in.
They were buying up food. A woman struggled her way out with three tins
of fruit, a pot of jam and a bag of flour. She seemed thoroughly well
pleased with herself. He heard her say to some one, "Well, I've got
mine, anyway." He actually had a sense of reassurance from her grotesque
provisioning. He thought, "You see, every one knows it can't last long."

IV

No one in the office was pretending to do any work. As in the street,
all were in groups eagerly talking. The clerks' room resounded with
excited discussion. Everybody wanted to talk to somebody. He went into
Mr. Fortune's room. Mr. Fortune and Twyning and Harold were gathered
round a map cut from a newspaper, all talking; even young Harold giving
views and being attentively listened to. They looked up and greeted him
cordially. Everybody was cordial and communicative to everybody. "Come
along in, Sabre." He joined them and he found their conversation
extra