“All the ruins,” he said.  “You know, don’t you?  The bank, our bank, and the club?”

It seemed to her afterwards that she knew before he told her, saw it all, a dreadful picture which had somehow superimposed upon it a vision of Jim Doyle with the morning paper, and the thing that this was not the time for.

“That’s all,” he finished.  “Eleven at the club, two of them my own fellows.  In France, you know.  I found one of them myself, this morning.”  He stared past her, over her head.  “Killed for nothing, the way the Germans terrorized Belgium.  Haven’t you seen the papers?”

“No, they wouldn’t let you see them, of course.  Lily, I want you to leave here.  If you don’t, if you stay now, you’re one of them, whether you believe what they preach or not.  Don’t you see that?”

She was not listening.  Her faith was dying hard, and the mental shock had brought her dizziness and a faint nausea.  He stood watching her, and when she glanced up at him it seemed to her that Pink was hard.  Hard and suspicious, and the suspicion was for her.  It was incredible.

“Do you believe what they preach?” he demanded.  “I’ve got to know, Lily.  I’ve suffered the tortures of the damned all night.”

“I didn’t know it meant this.”

“Do you?” he repeated.

“No.  You ought to know me better than that.  But I don’t believe that it started here, Pink.  He was very angry this morning, and he wouldn’t let me see the paper.”

“He’s behind it all right,” Pink said grimly.  “Maybe he didn’t plant the bombs, but his infernal influence did it, just the same.  Do you mean to say you’ve lived here all this time and don’t know he is plotting a revolution?  What if he didn’t authorize these things last night?  He is only waiting, to place a hundred bombs instead of three.  A thousand, perhaps.”

“Oh, no!”

“We’ve got their own statements.  Department of Justice found them.  The fools, to think they can overthrow the government!  Can you imagine men planning to capture this city and hold it?”

“It wouldn’t be possible, Pink?”

“It isn’t possible now, but they’ll make a try at it.”

There was a short pause, with Lily struggling to understand.  Pink’s set face relaxed somewhat.  All that night he had been fighting for his belief in her.

“I never dreamed of it, Pink.  I suppose all the talk I’ve heard meant that, but I never—­are you sure?  About Jim Doyle, I mean.”

“We know he is behind it.  We haven’t got the goods on him yet, but we know.  Cameron knows.  You ask him and he’ll tell you.”

“Willy Cameron?”

“Yes.  He’s had some vision, while the rest of us—!  He’s got a lot of us working now, Lily.  We are on the right trail, too, although we lost some records last night that put us back a couple of months.  We’ll get them, all right.  We’ll smash their little revolution into a cocked hat.”  It occurred to him, then, that this house was a poor place for such a confidence.  “I’ll tell you about it later.  Get your things now, and let me take you home.”