Mr. Tyritt crossed his legs.  His tone still indicated the slight tolerance of the man convinced beforehand of the soundness of his position.

“For the last twelve years,” he announced,—­“ever since I came into office, in fact,—­this bogey of German spies has been costing the nation something like fifty thousand a year.  It is only lately that we have come to take that broader view of the situation which I am endeavouring to—­to—­may I say enunciate?  Germans over in this country, especially those in comparatively menial positions, such as barbers and waiters, are necessary to us industrially.  So long as they earn their living reputably, conform to our laws, and pay our taxes, they are welcome here.  We do not wish to unnecessarily disturb them.  We wish instead to offer them the full protection of the country in which they have chosen to do productive work.”

“Very interesting,” Norgate remarked.  “I have heard this point of view before.  Once I thought it common sense.  To-day I think it academic piffle.  If we leave the Germans engaged in the inland towns alone for a moment, do you realise, I wonder, that there isn’t any seaport in England that hasn’t its sprinkling of Germans engaged in the occupations of which you speak?”

“And in a general way,” Mr. Tyritt assented, smiling, “they are perfectly welcome to write home to their friends and relations each week and tell them everything they see happening about them, everything they know about us.”

Norgate rose reluctantly to his feet.

“I won’t trouble you any longer,” he decided.  “I presume that if I make a few investigations on my own account, and bring you absolute proof that any one of these people whose names are upon my list are in traitorous communication with Germany, you will view the matter differently?”

“Without a doubt,” Mr. Tyritt promised.  “Is that your list?  Will you allow me to glance through it?”

“I brought it here to leave in your hands,” Norgate replied, passing it over.  “Your attitude, however, seems to render that course useless.”

Mr. Tyritt adjusted his eyeglasses and glanced benevolently at the document.  A sharp ejaculation broke from his lips.  As his eyes wandered downwards, his first expression of incredulity gave way to one of suppressed amusement.

“Why, Mr. Norgate,” he exclaimed, as he laid it down, “do you mean to seriously accuse these people of being engaged in any sort of league against us?”

“Most certainly I do,” Norgate insisted.

“But the thing is ridiculous!” Mr. Tyritt declared.  “There are names here of princes, of bankers, of society women, many of them wholly and entirely English, some of them household names.  You expect me to believe that these people are all linked together in what amounts to a conspiracy to further the cause of Germany at the expense of the country in which they live, to which they belong?”

Norgate picked up his hat.