"That," I said, "is not very helpful."
"I'm sorry. There are about two hundred people in that hall who know me, but only four recognised me. You were one. I'm grateful."
"But what did you expect?"
"I wasn't sure. You came with the enemy."
It was time for me to define my attitude of political isolation. I told her—what was no more than the truth—that I owed no allegiance to king, country, church, or party. I have never been interested in politics, and twenty years' absence from England have made me nothing if not a citizen of the world. I cared nothing for the great franchise question, it was a matter of indifference to me whether the vote was granted or withheld. On the other hand, I have a great love of peace and comfort, and resent any effort to force me into a position of hostility.
"You won't convert me, Joyce," I said. "No more will the Rodens. I refuse to mix myself up in the miserable business. Friends and enemies, indeed! I have no enemies, but as a friend I wish I could persuade you to accept the fait accompli. You're up against force majeure, you'll have to give in sooner or later. Why not sooner?"
"Why give up at all?"
"You're striking at an immovable body."
"What happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable body?"
"Is it an irresistible force?"