There were plenty of people in Churchill's carriage; a military member
and a local member happened to be in my immediate neighbourhood. Their
minds were full of the financial scandals, and they dinned their
alternating opinions into me. I assured them that I knew nothing about
the matter, and they grew more solicitous for my enlightenment.

"It all comes from having too many eggs in one basket," the local member
summed up. "The old-fashioned small enterprises had their
disadvantages, but--mind you--these gigantic trusts.... Isn't that so,
General?"

"Oh, I quite agree with you," the general barked; "at the same time...."
Their voices sounded on, intermingling, indistinguishable, soothing
even. I seemed to be listening to the hum of a threshing-machine--a
passage of sound booming on one note, a passage, a half-tone higher, and
so on, and so on. Visible things grew hazy, fused into one another.




CHAPTER SIXTEEN


We reached London somewhat late in the evening--in the twilight of a
summer day. There was the hurry and bustle of arrival, a hurry and
bustle that changed the tenor of my thoughts and broke their train. As I
stood reflecting before the door of the carriage, I felt a friendly
pressure of a hand on my shoulder.

"You'll see to that," Churchill's voice said in my ear. "You'll set the