He realized that Dora was speaking rapidly and confidently, and that somewhere in his ill-assembled parts lurked a familiar bit of him that objected to her even more than usual; but she had used half of her time, at least, before he was able to gather any coherent meaning from what she was saying.  Even then he caught only a fragment, here and there, and for the rest—­so far as Ramsey was concerned—­she might as well have been reciting the Swedish alphabet.

In spite of the rather startling feebleness of her opponent’s statement, Dora went at her task as earnestly as if it were to confute some monster of casuistry.  “Thus, having demonstrated that all war is wrong,” she said, approaching her conclusion, “it is scarcely necessary to point out that whatever the actual circumstances of the invasion, and whatever the status of the case in international law, or by reason of treaty, or the German oath to respect the neutrality of Belgium, which of course was grossly and dishonorably violated—­all this, I say, ladies and gentlemen of the Lumen Society, all this is beside the point of morals.  Since, as I have shown, all war is wrong, the case may be simplified as follows:  All war is morally wrong. Quod erat demonstrandum.  Germany invaded Belgium.  Invasion is war.  Germany, therefore, did moral wrong.  Upon the legal side, as I began by pointing out, Germany confessed in the Reichstag the violation of law.  Therefore, Germany was justified in the invasion neither morally nor legally; but was both morally and legally wrong and evil.  Ladies and gentlemen of the Lumen Society, I await the refutation of my opponent!”

Her opponent appeared to be having enough trouble with his legs, without taking any added cares upon himself in the way of refutations.  But the marvellous Dora had calculated the length of her statement with such nicety that the chairman announced “Four minutes,” almost upon the instant of her final syllable; and all faces turned once more to the upholder of the affirmative.  “Refutation and conclusion by the affirmative,” said the chairman.  “Mr. R. Milholland.  Two minutes.”

Therewith, Ramsey coughed as long as he could cough, and when he felt that no more should be done in this way, he wiped his face—­again an act of necessity—­and quaveringly began: 

“Gentlemen and ladies, or ladies and gentlemen, in making the refutation of my opponent, I feel that—­I feel that hardly anything more ought to be said.”

He paused, looked helplessly at his uncontrollable legs, and resumed:  “I am supposed to make the reputa—­the refutation of my opponent, and I feel that I ought to say quite a good deal more.  In the first place, I feel that the invasion has taken place.  I am supposed—­anyhow I got a postal card that I am supposed to be here to-night.  Well, in talking over this matter with a couple of seniors, they told me I was supposed to claim this invasion was mor’ly and legally all right.