“It is true,” said Bertram, “I thank you for having said so, Madame.”
He found himself speaking emotionally, with a kind of passion in his voice, which he tried to control.
“Since I’ve been in France, wandering about, I have heard nothing but the French point of view. I agree with it a good deal. I am a lover of France. But there’s another point of view.”
“Yes?” asked De Montauban, politely, but with a hint of sarcasm.
“Yes. It’s the English point of view. That of the common man, the ‘Tommy’ who fought in France.”
“Yes?” asked De Montauban again.
“I know it pretty well. You would like to hear?”
“Tell us!” said Mme. de Montauban.
“It’s just this. He doesn’t believe in kicking a man when he’s down, even a German. And he does believe that another war will happen if France presses Germany too hard. He doesn’t want another war, because he has two million comrades out of work as a result of the last, and the trade of England is ruined already. He wants peace, and he thinks the way to get it is by a union of European peoples, forgetting hatred, and no longer grouping into different Alliances, defensive or aggressive. He believes in a League of Nations.”
“Then he believes in monstrous illusion,” said De Montauban, very coldly, and Bertram thought of the French priest who banged his fist on the table with the cry of “Illusion!”