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'Oh no?'

'No, otherwise you would not repeat to me what Stephen has told you. Your trustfulness is limitless.'

'But my dear René! Why should Stephen of all people be engaged in such propaganda?'

René shrugged his shoulders.

'Stephen is a parlour pink! It is just as simple as that.'

Hester silently demurred with her mouth, conveying in dumb show that 'yes she knew but . . .'

'Hang it all, Stephen makes no secret of his Party-alignment, does he?'

'Stephen of course is not a Tory, René! But you describe so many people as communists, darling!'

'But so they are. Whether they are officially members of the Party is unimportant. We are passing through a period in which, in England, communist sympathy is fashionable among the young, the educated young. This is not a novel view of mine. It is generally accepted as being the case.'

Hester's face was that of a person who had just discovered in her hand a good card which she had overlooked, and which she meant to make the most of.

'Very well,' she answered, with what she intended should be an irritating indolence, 'but it is still quite ridiculous to say that Stephen Vickers spends his time disseminating propaganda, in favour of war. Stephen is the last person to fancy himself as a soldier.'