"I was born in America," Pamela told him; "so were my parents and my grandparents. I claim to be American to the backbone. I claim even to treat any sympathies I might have in this affair as prejudices, and not even to allow them a single corner in my brain."
Mr. Fischer sat quite still for several moments. He was struggling very hard to keep his temper. In the end he succeeded.
"We will not, then, pursue the subject of America's neutrality," he said, "because it is obvious that we disagree fundamentally. But tell me this, now, as an American and a patriot. Which do you think would be better for America—That Germany and Austria won this war, or the Allies?"
"Upon that question I have not altogether made up my mind," Pamela confessed.
"Then there is room there for a discussion," Mr. Fischer pointed out eagerly. "I should like to put my views before you on this matter."
"And I should love to hear them," Pamela replied, "but I feel just now as though we had talked enough politics. Do you know that I came up on deck in a state of great agitation?"
"Submarine alarms from the stewardess?" Mr. Fischer suggested.
"I am not afraid of submarines, but I have a most profound dislike for thieves," Pamela declared.
"You have not had anything stolen?" he asked quickly.
"I have not," Pamela replied, "but the only reason seems to be that I have nothing worth stealing. When I got back from luncheon this afternoon I found that my stateroom had been systematically searched."