“Friends!” he repeated, his far-away eyes fixed over the heads of the crowd, “you’re injuring no one but yourselves by breaking in here to-night. Do we look like rich men? Do we look like Germans? I ask you in all fairness--” “Pipe down!” “I’ll say you do!” “Say, who’s your lady friend, buddy?” A man in civilian clothes, who had been pawing over a table, suddenly held up a newspaper. “Here it is!” he shouted, “They wanted the Germans to win the war!” A new overflow from the stairs was shouldered in and of a sudden the room was full of men all closing around the pale little group at the back. Edith saw that the tall soldier with the weak chin was still in front. The short dark one had disappeared. She edged slightly backward, stood close to the open window, through which came a clear breath of cool night air. Then the room was a riot. She realized that the soldiers were surging forward, glimpsed the fat man swinging a chair over his head--instantly the lights went out and she felt the push of warm bodies under rough cloth, and her ears were full of shouting and trampling and hard breathing. A figure flashed by her out of nowhere, tottered, was edged sideways, and of a sudden disappeared helplessly out through the open window with a frightened, fragmentary cry that died staccato on the bosom of the clamor. By the faint light streaming from the building backing on the area Edith had a quick impression that it had been the tall soldier with the weak chin. Anger rose astonishingly in her. She swung her arms wildly, edged blindly toward the thickest of the scuffling. She heard grunts, curses, the muffled impact of fists. “Henry!” she called frantically, “Henry!” Then, it was minutes later, she felt suddenly that there were other figures in the room. She heard a voice, deep, bullying, authoritative; she saw yellow rays of light sweeping here and there in the fracas. The cries became more scattered. The scuffling increased and then stopped. Suddenly the lights were on and the room was full of policemen, clubbing left and right. The deep voice boomed out: “Here now! Here now! Here now!” And then: “Quiet down and get out! Here now!” The room seemed to empty like a wash-bowl. A policeman fast-grappled in the corner released his hold on his soldier antagonist and started him with a shove toward the door. The deep voice continued. Edith perceived now that it came from a bull-necked police captain standing near the door. “Here now! This is no way! One of your own sojers got shoved out of the back window an’ killed hisself!” “Henry!” called Edith, “Henry!” She beat wildly with her fists on the back of the man in front of her; she brushed between two others; fought, shrieked, and beat her way to a very pale figure sitting on the floor close to a desk. “Henry,” she cried passionately, “what’s the matter? What’s the matter? Did they hurt you?” His eyes were shut. He groaned and then looking up said disgustedly--