Mr. Twist’s heart gave a kind of tug at him.  His sentimental, maternal side heaved to the top.  A great impulse to hurry out and put his arms round them seized him, but he frowned and overcame it.  He didn’t want to go soft now.  Nor was this the moment, his nicely brought up soul told him, his soul still echoing with the voice of Clark, to put his arms round them—­this, the very first occasion on which Mrs. Bilton had left them alone with him.  Whether it would become proper on the very second occasion was one of those questions that would instantly have suggested itself to the Annas themselves, but didn’t occur to Mr. Twist.  He merely went on to think of another reason against it, which was the chance of Mrs. Bilton’s looking out of her window just as he did it.  She might, he felt, easily misjudge the situation, and the situation, he felt, was difficult enough already.  So he restrained himself; and the Annas continued to consider infinite space and to perceive, again with that feeling of dank and unsatisfactory consolation, that nothing really mattered.

Next day immediately after breakfast Mrs. Bilton followed him into his office and gave notice.  She called it formally tendering her resignation.  She said that all her life she had been an upholder of straight dealing, as much in herself towards others as in others towards herself—­

“Mrs. Bilton—­” interrupted Mr. Twist, only it didn’t interrupt.

She had also all her life been intensely patriotic, and Mr. Twist, she feared, didn’t look at patriotism with quite her single eye—­

“Mrs. Bilton—­”

As her eye saw it, patriotism was among other things a determination to resist the encroachments of foreigners—­

“Mrs. Bilton—­”

She had no wish to judge him, but she had still less wish to be mixed up with foreigners, and foreigners for her at that moment meant Germans—­

“Mrs. Bilton—­”

She regretted, but psychically she would never be able to flourish in a soil so largely composed, as the soil of The Open Arms appeared to be, of that nationality—­

“Mrs. Bilton—­”

And though it was none of her business, still she must say it did seem to her a pity that Mr. Twist with his well-known and respected American name should be mixed up—­

“Mrs. Bilton—­”

And though she had no wish to be inquisitive, still she must say it did seem to her peculiar that Mr. Twist should be the guardian of two girls who, it was clear from what she had overheard that afternoon, were German—­

Here Mr. Twist raised his voice and shouted.  “Mrs. Bilton,” he shouted, so loud that she couldn’t but stop, “if you’ll guarantee to keep quiet for just five minutes—­sit down right here at this table and not say one single thing, not one single thing for just five minutes,” he said, banging the table, “I’ll tell you all about it.  Oh yes, I’ll accept your resignation at the end of that time if you’re still set on leaving, but just for this once it’s me that’s going to do the talking.”