"We have been talking of the dreadful news, Mr. Treves," said Lady Rachel, biting a slip of bread and butter with long sharp teeth.
"You mean the sinking of the Malta?" inquired John.
"Yes, how appalling it is," said she. "I heard it before it appeared in the papers."
"It's one of the worst disasters we have had for some time," responded John; "a new ship costing a million pounds of public money, and two hundred fine lives."
Mrs. Pomfret Bond spoke up indignantly.
"I can't imagine how the Germans find out about our ships. We're supposed to have an Intelligence Department. Why don't they put a stop to this sort of thing?"
"I expect they do the best they can," remarked John.
"But one always has to reckon with spies," said Mrs. Pomfret Bond.
"Of course," said John.
"But the Malta was a new vessel," observed Mrs. Beecher Monmouth; "how could they find out when she was to leave ——?"