Joan gave him Carleton's message.
"It was clever of him to make use of you," he said.

"If he'd sent it through anybody else, I'd have published it." "You don't think it even worth considering ?" suggested Joan.
"Protection ?" he flashed out scornfully.

"Yes, I've heard of that.

I've listened, as a boy, while the old men told of it to one another, in thin, piping voices, round the fireside; how the labourers were flung eight-and- sixpence a week to die on, and the men starved in the towns; while the farmers kept their hunters, and got drunk each night on fine old crusted port.

Do you know what their toast was in the big hotels on market day, with the windows open to the street: 'To a long war and a bloody one.' It would be their toast to-morrow, if they had their way.