"No? Well, at any rate your gunboats, in retaliation, fired on the unarmed, civilian population of Nanking, killing hundreds. But after all, why should you and I talk about it?" "I don't believe they fired on the civilian population, or if they did, they must have been forced into it." The General shrugged his shoulders. "We will get nowhere by discussing this. It would only drag us both into the vulgarity of open anger. I will send you some Shanghai papers which have just come to me. You can read there all your own point of view." But if the General was not already angry, he was agitated. His hand holding the cigarette shook nervously. This shaking hand made Megan realize how near she herself had come to losing control, perhaps irreparably. What about all the vast misery of China which had in no wit changed? What about the word of God that was to illumine the drowsy twilight of its spirit? Christianity had always spread to an inevitable accompaniment of bloodshed, its own and, it must be admitted, that of others. But the loss of life was not to be considered in the saving of a soul. Life, blood, flesh, were nothing; the spirit everything. Megan sat with clinched hands, and while for several moments neither she nor the General had said a word, she was as exhausted as though they had been engaged in a mortal struggle. "Yes, you are right," she said. "We won't talk about that. I want as a matter of fact to see your point of view as far as I can. I believe I can do it better when you don't argue with me." The General smiled suddenly and taking out his handkerchief wiped his forehead. "Delightful," he murmured. "Do you know," he said, "for a moment you quite terrified me. There is something about the European eye, I can't explain the effect it has on me. It gets so--large." He returned his handkerchief carefully to its pocket. "But I am glad you are trying not to think too ill of us." Megan's cheeks still burned and her voice was still a little husky. "Oh, we don't really think ill of you. Certainly not in America. On the contrary we like to sentimentalize over your superiority to ourselves. Haven't you noticed that attitude in England too? Peace-loving exquisites, passionate over tea, philosophy and calligraphy, that is how we like to think of you." The General seized with relief this diversion into a wider field. "And aren't we that?" "I know nothing about your actual tastes. But as to peace, the country never seems to have known it. And any one can see that your philosophy has never brought you good government, justice, or an equal distribution of happiness."