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 ent intelligence, with swift broken fragments of speech. If I had a precise full memory of that morning I should give it to you, verbatim, minutely. But here, save for the little sharp things that stand out, I find only blurred general impressions. Throughout I have to make up again his half-forgotten sentences and speeches, and be content with giving you the general effect. But I can see and hear him now as he said, "The dream got worse at the end. The war--a perfectly horrible business! Horrible! And it was just like a nightmare, you couldn't do anything to escape from it--everyone was driven!"

His sense of indiscretion was gone.

He opened the war out to me--as everyone sees it now. Only that morning it was astonishing. He sat there on the ground, absurdly forgetful of his bare and swollen foot, treating me as the humblest accessory and as altogether an equal, talking out to himself the great obsession of his mind. "We could have prevented it! Any of us who chose to speak out could have prevented it. A little decent frankness. What was there to prevent us being frank with one another? Their emperor--his position was a pile of ridiculous assumptions, no doubt, but at bottom--he was a sane man." He touched off the emperor in a few pithy words, the German press, the German people, and our own.