"I doubt it," I said. "The temptation's too great. The first day I was given an air-gun—this is many years ago, Raney—I winged a harmless, necessary milch cow. The alpha and omega of British policy should be to have a navy so efficient that no one can attack us and an army so inefficient that we daren't attack anyone else. If you aim at all-round efficiency, you'll probably have the rest of Europe on your back and you'll certainly go bankrupt."
He was preparing an explosive retort when one of the drawing-room windows opened, and Sonia came toward us.
"Bedtime?" I asked, as she held out her hand.
"Rot, isn't it?" she answered, wrinkling her nose. "I shall be sixteen next birthday, too."
"When I was your age ..." O'Rane began improvingly.
"I used to thrash you two or three times a month," I put in.
Sonia looked at him wonderingly.
"Is that true, David?" she demanded.
He nodded his head.