of the world, are a little handful of arch-egotists and crowned degenerates to be permitted to plot, intrigue and gamble in the destinies of hundreds of millions of people, in life and death, happiness and misery, with everything God gave us to be ours—on the land, in the air, on the sea? No, the time has come when that terror has to die if liberty is to live, and it is for us to kill it. Therefore we sent our Ultimatum this morning, and if as a consequence we are called upon to make the sacrifices of war for the things that are more to us than life, we must make them— every man, every woman, every child. [There is a moment of silence. Then from within comes the cry of a child. Sir Robert listens, then touches bell. Maidservant enters.] What was that?
Maidservant.
Little Miss Peggy, sir. Awakened from sleep in
a fright. Must have been a nightmare. She's calling
for her father, and Nurse says she cannot be pacified.
Sir Robert.
[Rising.] Excuse me, gentlemen.
[He goes out at right. His colleagues look after him, and then smile.
Carfax.
Isn't that like him?
Dundas.
Isn't it?
Carfax.
How little the world knows him!
