“How long has what been going on?” asked Pillivant, returning.
“This war.”
“I don’t quite see what you’re driving at,” said Pillivant, puzzled.
“I want to know how long this war I’m reading about in the newspaper has been going on.”
Pillivant regarded him askance out of his little furtive eyes. He entertained the same suspicion as his wife.
“Look here, old man,” he said, taking him by the arm, “that knock on the head’s more serious than you think.” At the noise of a halting car he glanced out of window. “Ah! there’s Dr. Rewsby.”
“Never mind the doctor or my head,” cried Baltazar desperately. “Answer my question. How long have we been at war with Germany?”
“Why, since August, 1914.”
“For the last two years?”
“Do you mean to say you’ve been living eight or ten miles off and never heard of the war?” Pillivant stood bewildered.