“You have not, I suppose, seen a morning paper—or rather last night’s paper?” he remarked.
She shook her head.
“A newspaper! You know that I never look at an English one,” she answered. “You wanted to see me, Reynolds said. Is there any news?”
“There is great news,” he answered. “There is such news that by sunset to-day war will probably be declared between England and Germany!”
The flush died out of her cheeks. She faced him pallid to the lips.
“It is not possible!” she exclaimed.
“So the whole world would have declared a week ago! As a matter of fact it is not so sudden as we imagine! The storm has been long brewing! It is we who have been blind. A little black spot of irritation has spread and deepened into a war-cloud.”
“This will affect us?” she asked.
“For us,” he answered, “it is a triumph. It is the end of our schemes, the climax of our desires. When Knigenstein came to me I knew that he was in earnest, but I never dreamed that the torch was so nearly kindled. I see now why he was so eager to make terms with me.”
“And you,” she said, “you have their bond?”