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"
After coffee Graham rose.
"I'll go and speak to mother," he said. And Clayton felt in him a
new manliness. It was as though his glance said, "She is a woman,
you know. War is men's work, work for you and me. But it's hard
on them."
Afterward Clayton was to remember with surprise how his friends
gathered that night at the house. Nolan came in early, his twisted
grin rather accentuated, his tall frame more than usually stooped.
He stood in the doorway of the library, one hand in his pocket, a
familiar attitude which made him look oddly boyish.
"Well!" he drawled, without greeting. "They've done it. The
English have got us. We hadn't a chance. The little Welshman - "
"Come in," Clayton said, "and talk like an American and not an
Irishman. I don't want to know what you think about Lloyd George.
What are you going to do?"
"I was thinking," Nolan observed, advancing, "of blowing up
Washington. We'd have a fresh start, you see. With Washington gone
root and branch we would have some sort of chance, a clear sweep,
with the capital here or in Boston.


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