"It's all up with us," said Bundy. "We're closing down next week!" "Closing down!" "Yes. We're bust. Damn it, we're getting on splendidly, too. Just turning the corner! We should have had a magnificent autumn if it hadn't been for this...." He came away from Bundy, and walked aimlessly down Fleet Street. "Lots of other people would have had a fine autumn if it hadn't been for this," he thought to himself, and then he saw Leadenham and Crowborough, who worked on the _Cottenham Guardian_. They were very pale and tired-looking. "Hilloa!" he said, slapping Leadenham on the back. Leadenham jumped ... startled! "Oh, it's you," he said, smiling weakly. "Yes. What's up? You look frightened!" He turned to greet Crowborough. "Well, we're all rather jiggered by this," Leadenham replied. "We're going to get something to eat. Come with us?" They went into a tea-shop and sat down. "Is the _Guardian_ all right?" Henry asked. "Oh, yes," said Leadenham wearily, "as right as anything is. Nobody in Fleet Street knows how long his job'll last. Half the men on the _Daily Circle_ have had the sack. Some of our chaps have gone! Fleet Street's full of men looking for jobs. About fifty papers have smashed up since the thing began ... sporting papers mostly. It frightens you, this sort of thing!..." He came away from Fleet Street as quickly as possible. The nervous, hectic state of the journalists made him feel nervous too. "I'd better get among less jumpy people," he said to himself, and he hurried towards Charing Cross. And there he met Jimphy. He did not recognise him at first, for Jimphy was in khaki, and he would have passed on without seeing him, had Jimphy not caught hold of his arm and stopped him. "Cutting a chap, damn you!" said Jimphy.... "Good Lord, I didn't know you!" "Thought you didn't. Where you going?" "Oh, nowhere. Just loafing about. Gilbert's down at Scotland Yard trying to enlist." "Is he, begad? Everybody seems to be trying to enlist. He'd much better try to get a commission. I'm going home now. You come with me, Quinny. Hi, hi!..." He hailed a taxi-cab, and, without waiting to hear what Henry had to say, bundled him into it. "Lord," he exclaimed, as he leant back in the cab, "it's years an' years an' years since I saw you. Well, what do you think of this for a bally war, eh? Millions of 'em ... all smackin' each other. I'm going out soon!" He leant out of the window and shouted at the driver, "Hi, you chap, hurry up, will you! "I don't seem able to get anywhere quick enough nowadays," he said as he sat back again in his seat. "You know," he went on, "we've never been to the Empire yet, you an' me. Damned if we have! Never mind! We'll go when the War's over!" 7