“The war,” he said, “is for the liberation of Europe. It is a vast struggle, an Armageddon in which the forces of reaction, absolutism, tyranny, a military caste are ranged against democracy. It is their last appearance upon the stage of history. Vindicated now, the principles of democracy——”
“If you think,” I said, “that I’m going out to fight for the principles of democracy, you’re making a big mistake. There’s nothing in the world I dislike more than that absurd democracy of yours.”
“Then why?” said Ascher, mildly persistent. “Why are you going to fight?”
“Well,” I said, “I don’t want to say anything offensive about your people, Ascher. The Germans have a lot of fine qualities, but if they were to win this war, if they were to succeed in imposing their civilisation and their mentality on us all, if they were to Germanise the world, the sense of humour would perish from among men. Nobody would any longer be able to laugh. We—we should find ourselves taking governments and officials seriously. Just imagine! To live under a bureaucracy and not to see that it was funny! Surely it’s worth while fighting for the right to laugh.”
“You Irish!” said Ascher. “Even in times like this your love of paradox——”
“Don’t say it,” I said. “If you can possibly help it don’t say that. I admit that I brought it on myself and deserve it. I apologise. That is not my real reason for going back to my regiment. I only gave it to you because I don’t know what my real reason is. It’s not patriotism. I haven’t got any country to be patriotic about. It’s not any silly belief in liberty or democracy. I don’t know why I’m doing it. I just have to. That’s all.”
“Noblesse oblige,” said Ascher. “Your honour as a gentleman.”
I shuddered. Ascher—there is no other way of putting it—is grossly indecent. A woman has a sense of modesty about her body. It would be considered an outrage to strip her and leave her stark naked in the middle of the room. I cannot see why a man should not be credited with some feeling of modesty about his soul. I detest having my last garments plucked from me in public. Complete spiritual nudity causes me very great embarrassment.
“You can put it that way if you like,” I said. “The plain fact is I can’t help myself. I must go back to my regiment. I have no choice.”
“I have come to see,” said Ascher, “that I have no choice either. There is such a thing, though perhaps Mr. Gorman will not believe me—there is such a thing as the honour of a banker. It compels me.”