Josephine took her cigarette from her lips again.

“Tell us about yourself, Mr. Sisson,” she said.  “How do you like being in London?”

“I like London,” said Aaron.

Where did he live?  Bloomsbury.  Did he know many people?  No—­nobody except a man in the orchestra.  How had he got his job?  Through an agent.  Etc.  Etc.

“What do you make of the miners?” said Jim, suddenly taking a new line.

“Me?” said Sisson.  “I don’t make anything of them.”

“Do you think they’ll make a stand against the government?”

“What for?”

“Nationalisation.”

“They might, one day.”

“Think they’d fight?”

“Fight?”

“Yes.”

Aaron sat laughing.

“What have they to fight for?”

“Why, everything!  What haven’t they to fight for?” cried Josephine fiercely.  “Freedom, liberty, and escape from this vile system.  Won’t they fight for that?”

Aaron sat smiling, slowly shaking his head.

“Nay,” he said, “you mustn’t ask me what they’ll do—­I’ve only just left them, for good.  They’ll do a lot of cavilling.”

“But won’t they ACT?” cried Josephine.

“Act?” said Aaron.  “How, act?”

“Why, defy the government, and take things in their own hands,” said Josephine.

“They might, some time,” said Aaron, rather indifferent.

“I wish they would!” cried Josephine.  “My, wouldn’t I love it if they’d make a bloody revolution!”

They were all looking now at her.  Her black brows were twitching, in her black and silver dress she looked like a symbol of young disaster.

“Must it be bloody, Josephine?” said Robert.

“Why, yes.  I don’t believe in revolutions that aren’t bloody,” said Josephine.  “Wouldn’t I love it!  I’d go in front with a red flag.”

“It would be rather fun,” said Tanny.

“Wouldn’t it!” cried Josephine.

“Oh, Josey, dear!” cried Julia hysterically.  “Isn’t she a red-hot Bolsher! I should be frightened.”

“No!” cried Josephine.  “I should love it.”

“So should I,” said Jim, in a luscious sort of voice.  “What price machine-guns at the end of the Strand!  That’s a day to live for, what?”

“Ha!  Ha!” laughed Clariss, with her deep laugh.  “We’d all Bolsh together.  I’d give the cheers.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting killed.  I’d love it, in a real fight,” said Josephine.

“But, Josephine,” said Robert, “don’t you think we’ve had enough of that sort of thing in the war?  Don’t you think it all works out rather stupid and unsatisfying?”

“Ah, but a civil war would be different.  I’ve no interest in fighting Germans.  But a civil war would be different.”

“That’s a fact, it would,” said Jim.

“Only rather worse,” said Robert.

“No, I don’t agree,” cried Josephine.  “You’d feel you were doing something, in a civil war.”