"Well, if you ask me what I think of the War," said Mr. FitzJenkins, "it's a noosance--an unmitigated noosance. No one talks anything but War nowadays--and the papers contain nothing but War news. Even the Men's Dress Columns have disappeared. I can tell you it has caused the greatest inconvenience to me personally. You may wonder why I am manicuring myself. I'll tell you why. My manicurist--the only man in London who knew how to manicure--turned out to be a beastly German or Austrian or something, and has gone off to his beastly War. I even offered to double the man's fees--at which the fellow, instead of being grateful, was grossly impertinent. If he hadn't been such a great hulking brute I'd have knocked him down.... So I have to do the business myself. Couldn't trust it to anyone else.... And then look here. You see this little pot of pink paste, which has to be used to give the nails the necessary blush? Do you know that the price of that has doubled since the War?" I expressed my horror by a suitable gesture. "Of course," said Mr. FitzJenkins, "I don't want to be hard on the Government--I know they have a lot to think of--but I do consider they ought to have prevented this somehow. They regulate the price of food, but forget that there are other necessities.... Again, some of my dividends have not been paid. A nice thing if one is to be forced to earn one's own living!" "You haven't volunteered to fight, then?" I said. "Good lor, no! That might suit some people, but not me. It's not a job for anyone of any refinement. Why, I am told that, when they are fighting, for days together even the officers don't shave or change their linen. I'm not that sort, thank you. There are plenty of rough fellows to do it, I suppose. And in any event I could not fight alongside of French soldiers. Have you seen the cut of their trousers?" Mr. FitzJenkins laughed outright. "And are you doing anything to help in the crisis?" I asked. "Oh yes, oh yes," said Mr. FitzJenkins. "You mustn't imagine that it is only those who fight who are helping. What about the women who are left behind? I help amuse 'em--keep 'em bright. I'm 'carrying on.' I'm not of your panicky sort. It's just as well that there should be a few men like me left in town. We give it a tone." "I trust, Mr. FitzJenkins," I said, "that you are not opposed to the War." "Oh, dear, no. Please don't imagine that. It had to be fought, I suppose. And, although I am not taking an active part in it myself, I wish the War well, and hope that the KING and KITCHENER will pull it off all right." "May I publish that? I think it would encourage them."