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Three hours later Mr. Britling was working by daylight, though his study lamp was still burning, and his letter to old Heinrich was still no better than a collection of material for a letter. But the material was falling roughly into shape, and Mr. Britling's intentions were finding themselves.
Britling emerged from his club about half-past three with his mind rather dishevelled and with his private determination to do something promptly for his country's needs blunted by a perplexing "How?" His search for doors and ways where no doors and ways existed went on with a gathering sense of futility.
The young man stood in his dapper uniform and grinned under his long nose, carrying himself jauntily, proud of his extreme importance to so many lives.... And for a while Mr. Britling could do nothing but rage. "Devils they are!" he cried to the stars. "Devils! Devilish fools rather. Cruel blockheads. Apes with all science in their hands! My God! but we will teach them a lesson yet!..."
"If there is such a thing as decadence," said Mr. Britling. "If there wasn't such a thing as decadence," said Manning, "we journalists would have had to invent it."... "There is something tragical in all this what shall I call it? Kitchenerism," Mr. Britling reflected "Here you have it rushing about and keeping itself screwed up, and trying desperately to keep the country screwed up.
"If you'd just grip the spokes. Yes, so.... One, Two, Three!... No! Well, let's just sit here until somebody comes along to help us. Oh! Somebody will come all right. Won't you get up again?" And after a reflective moment Mr. Direck resumed his seat beside Mr. Britling.... Section 6 The two gentlemen smiled at each other to dispel any suspicion of discontent.
"This God who struggles," she repeated. "I have never thought of Him like that." "Of course He must be like that," said Mr. Britling. "How can God be a Person; how can He be anything that matters to man, unless He is limited and defined and human like ourselves.... With things outside Him and beyond Him." Section 11 Letty walked back slowly through the fields of stubble to her cottage.
The bomb in Westminster Abbey the other day might have killed a dozen people.... Suppose the smouldering criticism of British rule in India and Egypt were fanned by administrative indiscretions into a flame.... And then suppose Germany had made trouble.... Usually Mr. Britling kept his mind off Germany. In the daytime he pretended Germany meant nothing to England. He hated alarmists.
Britling's in a direction growing right out from all the Dower House world in which Mr. Direck supposed him to be completely set and rooted. There were certain matters from which Mr. Britling had been averting his mind most strenuously throughout the week-end. Now, there was no averting his mind any more. Mr. Britling was entangled in a love affair.
"I suppose they are." "One in three or four in the very hottest corners." Mr. Britling expressed no satisfaction. "Every one is going through something of this sort." "All the decent people, at any rate," said Mr. Britling.... "It will be an extraordinary experience. Somehow it seems out of proportion " "With what?" "With life generally. As one has known it." "It isn't in proportion," Mr.
Do you think, Sir, there's very much probability of this war? It do seem to be beginning like." "It looks more like beginning than it has ever done," said Mr. Britling. "It's a foolish business." "I suppose if they start in on us we got to hit back at them," said Mr. Hickson. "Postman he's got his papers too...." Mr.
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