If Winter ComesHutchinson, A. S. M. (Arthur Stuart-Menteth)
General
If Winter Comes
Hutchinson, A. S. M. (Arthur Stuart-Menteth)
Fiction
He had been ticking these points off on his fingers, much astonishing
Sabre by his marshalling of scattered incidents that had been merely
rather pleasing newspaper sensations of a couple of days. He presented
the ticked-off fingers bunched up together. "There, there's concrete
facts for you, Sabre. Can you say things aren't tightening up? Why, if
war--_when_ war comes people will look back on this year, 1912, and
wonder where in hell their eyes were that they didn't see it. What are
they seeing?--" He threw his fingers apart. "None of these things. Not
one. All this doctors and the Insurance Bill tripe, Marconi Inquiry,
_Titanic_, Suffragettes smashing up the West End, burning down Lulu
Harcourt's place, trying to roast old Asquith in the Dublin Theatre,
Seddon murder, this triangular cricket show. Hell's own excitement
because there's so much rain in August and people in Norwich have to go
about in boats, and then hell's own hullaballoo because there's no rain
for twenty-two days in September and people get so dry they can't spit
or something." His keen face wrinkled up into laughter. "Eh, didn't you
read that?" He laughed but was immediately intense again. "That's all
that really interests the people. By God, they'll sit up and take notice
of the real stuff one of these days. Pretty soon. Tightening up, I tell
you. Well, I'm off, Sabre. When are you coming up to the Mess again?
Friday? Well, guest night the week after. I'll drop you a line. So
long." He was off, carrying his straight back alertly up the street.
VII
His going was somehow as sudden and startling as his appearance had been
sudden and tumultuous. He had carried away Sabre's thoughts as a jet
from a hosepipe will spin a man out of a crowd; smashed into his
preoccupation as a stone smashing through a window upon one deep in
study; galloped across his mind as a cavalcade thundering through a
village street,--and the effect of it, and the incongruity of it as,
getting his bicycle from the office, he rode homewards, kept returning
to Sabre's mind, as an arresting dream will constantly break across
daylight thoughts.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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