Their tea had arrived, and for a few moments the conversation travelled in lighter channels. The young man, who was a person of some consequence in his own country, spoke easily of the theatres, of mutual friends, of some sport in which he had been engaged. Catherine relapsed into the role which had been her first in life,--the young woman of fashion. As such they attracted no attention save a few admiring glances on the part of passers-by towards Catherine. As the people around them thinned out a little, their conversation became more intimate. “I shall always feel,” the young man said thoughtfully, “that in these days I have lived very near great things. I have seen and realised what the historians will relate at second-hand. The greatest events move like straws in the wind. A month ago, it seemed as though the Central Powers would lose the war.” “I suppose,” she observed, “it depends very much upon what you mean by winning it? The terms of peace are scarcely the terms of victory, are they?” “The terms of peace,” he repeated thoughtfully. “We happen to know what they are, do we not?” she continued, speaking almost under her breath, “the basic terms, at any rate.” “You mean,” he said slowly, “the terms put forward by the Socialist Party of Germany to ensure the granting of an armistice?” “And acceded to,” she reminded him, “by the Kaiser and the two greatest German statesmen.” He toyed with his teacup, drew a gold cigarette case from his pocket, selected a cigarette, and lit it. “You would try to make me believe,” he remarked, smiling at his companion, “that to-day you are not in your most intelligent mood.” “Explain, if you please,” she begged earnestly. He smoked stolidly for several moments. “I imagine,” he said, “that you preserve with me something of that very skilfully assumed ignorance which is the true mask of the diplomatist. But is it worth while, I wonder?” She caught at her breath. “You are too clever,” she murmured, looking at him covertly. “You have seen,” he continued, “how Germany, who needs peace sorely, has striven to use the most despised power in her country for her own advantage--I mean the Socialist Party. From being treated with scorn and ignominy, they were suddenly, at the time of the proposed Stockholm Conference, judged worthy of notice from the All Highest himself. He suddenly saw how wonderful a use might be made of them. It was a very clever trap which was baited, and it was not owing to any foresight or any cleverness on the part of this country that the Allies did not walk straight into it. I say again,” he went on, “that it was a mere fluke which prevented the Allies from being represented at that Conference and the driving in of the thin end of the wedge.” “You are quite right,” Catherine agreed.