"Oh, they're for it, if it's got to be," he said.
"And Burt?—seen him?"
"No sir, not yet. But he's all right at heart, Joe is. I'm expectin him round every minute."
At the moment a thick-set man came swishing round the corner of Borough Lane on a bicycle. His shoulders were hunched, and he was pedalling furiously. The sweat shone on his face, which was red and set. It was clear that he had come far and fast. Seeing the two men in the road he flung off his bicycle and drew up beside them at a little pattering run.
Out here under the beat of the sun the Colonel hardly recognised in this solid fellow, dark with purpose, the wavering lover of the cliff last night. Was the change wrought in this man as by magic typical of a like change in the heart of the country? The thought flashed into the Colonel's mind and brought him relief.
The engineer, who was heaving, came straight to his point without a word, without a greeting.
"Philip Blackburn's coomin down on the rush to address a great Stop-the-war meeting at the Salvation Army Citadel this afternoon," he panted. "We must counter it. A'm racin round to warn the boys to roll up. You must be there, Colonel, and you, Ern, and all of you. It's all out this time, and no mistake."
The door behind the Colonel opened. He turned to find Ruth standing in the door, drying her hands.
Joe paid no heed, already sprawling over his bicycle as he pushed it off.
"What time?" she called after him.