not know," said Ascher, "whether at the end of a week I shall own
one single penny in the world. I may very well have lost everything.
But if that were all I should not trouble much. Merely to lose
money--but----"

He stopped speaking, and for a long while sat silent The clock behind me
chimed again. It was half past two.

"I suppose," said Ascher, "that you have always thought of me as an
Englishman."

"To tell you the truth," I said, "I've never thought whether you are an
Englishman or not. I wasn't interested. I suppose I took it for granted
that you were English."

"I am a German," said Ascher. "I was born in Hamburg, of German parents.
All my relations are Germans. I came over to England as a young man and
went into business here. My business--I do not know why--is one to which
Englishmen do not take readily. There are English bankers of course,
but not very many English financiers. Yet my particular kind of banking,
international banking, can best be carried on in England. That is why I
am here, why my business is centred in London, though I myself am not
an Englishman. I am a German. Please understand that. My brother is a
general in the German Army. My sister's sons are in the German Army and
Navy. My blood ties are with the people from whom I came."

I realised that Ascher was stating a case of conscience, was perhaps
asking my advice. It seemed to me that there was only one thing which
I could advise, only one possible course for Ascher to take. Whatever
happened to his business or his private fortune he must be true to his
own people. I was about to say this when Ascher raised his hand slightly
and stopped me.

"I want you to understand," he said, "my blood ties are with the people
from whom I came; but I am now wholly English in my sympathies. I see
things from the English point of view, not from the German. I am sure
that it will be a good thing for the world if England and her Allies
win, a bad thing if Germany is victorious in the war before us. Yet the
blood tie remains. Who was the Englishman who said, 'My country, may she
always be right, but my country right or wrong'? It seems to me a mean
thing to desert my country now, even although I have become a stranger
to her. Is it not a kind of disloyalty to range myself with her
enemies?"

Again Ascher paused. This time I was less ready to answer him.

"I have also to consider this," he went on, "and here I get to the very
heart of my difficulty.