"And that fellow?"
"Who?"
"Her father."
Mr. Trupp looked at the windy sky, torn to shreds and tatters by the Sou-west wind above the tower of the parish-church.
"He wanted the Big Stick and he got it," he said. "If it came down on his shoulders once a week regularly for a year he'd be a man. Steady pressure is what a fellow like that needs. And steady pressure is just what you don't get in a disorganised society such as ours."
The old Nonconformist held up a protesting hand.
"You'd better go to Germany straight off!" he cried. "That's the only place you'd be happy in."
Mr. Trupp grinned.
"No need," he said, "Germany's coming here. Ask the Colonel!"
"Ah!" scolded the other. "You and your Colonels! You go and hear Norman Angell on the Great Illusion at the Town Hall on Friday. You go and hear a sensible man talk sense. That'll do you a bit of good. Mr. Geddes is going to take the chair."