"Any number ... all equally bad.... Among others, this: pieces of French gold which are said to have been found on their soldiers. So you see ... with the post tumbling down once more, the explanations that are certain to begin all over again, the enquiries that are certain to be opened...."
Philippe went up to him:
"Come, come, I don't suppose it's so serious as all that."
"You think not, my boy? Then you haven't seen the stop-press telegrams in this morning's papers?"
"No," said Philippe and his father. "What's the news?"
"An incident in Asia Minor. A quarrel between the French and German officials. One of the consuls has been killed."
"Oh, oh!" said Morestal. "This time ..."
And Jorancé went into details:
"Yes, the position is exceedingly strained. The Morocco question has been opened again. Then there's the espionage business and the story of the French air-men flying over the fortresses in Alsace and dropping tricolour flags in the Strasburg streets.... For six months, it has been one long series of complications and shocks. The newspapers are becoming aggressive in their language. Both countries are arming, strengthening their defences. In short, in spite of the good intentions of the two governments, we are at the mercy of an accident. A spark ... and the thing's done."
A heavy silence weighed upon the three men. Each of them conjured up the sinister vision according to his own temperament and instincts.