'It ought to be,' Merrill retorted curtly.
'Why?'
'Just common-sense. If we don't win in this war, it will be your turn next. Japan and Germany you'll have to face—you can take my word for that—and I hope you'll like it. If we lose our Fleet, it's good-bye to American independence.'
'Plain and simple words, young fellow!'
'Not so plain or so simple as they are true.'
Lavendale threw away his cigarette and stretched out his hand for his hat.
'Well,' he said, 'I used to flatter myself that I was an out-and-out neutral, but I'm beginning to fancy that my sympathies are leaning a little towards your side of the show. Anyhow, I've no reason to keep secret the little I know about this affair—in fact I came down here to tell you. New York was talking openly last night of peace being proclaimed between Germany and Russia within a week.'
'We've tried her sorely,' Merrill confessed doggedly, 'but I don't believe it.'
Lavendale rose to his feet.
'I tell you, Merrill,' he said, 'if you'd been about town as much as I have for the last twenty-four hours, you'd begin to wonder yourself whether something wasn't amiss. These rumours and feelings of depression are one of the strangest features of the war, but there it is at the present moment, in the streets and the clubs and the restaurants—wherever you turn. I've noticed nothing like it since the beginning of the war. The optimists are still cackling away, but it's there all the same—a grim, disheartening fear. One man told me last night that he knew for a fact that Russia was on the point of suing for peace.'