And then, to speak the whole truth, there was no man capable of forming a
judgment who attended so little to the march of events as I did at that
time. What for want of a more definite term I must call my mind was
fixed upon my own affairs, not because they were in a bad posture, but
because of their fascinating holiday-promising aspect. I had been
obtaining my information as to Europe at second hand, from friends good
enough to come down now and then to see us. They arrived with their
pockets full of crumpled newspapers, and answered my queries casually,
with gentle smiles of scepticism as to the reality of my interest. And
yet I was not indifferent; but the tension in the Balkans had become
chronic after the acute crisis, and one could not help being less
conscious of it. It had wearied out one's attention. Who could have
guessed that on that wild stage we had just been looking at a miniature
rehearsal of the great world-drama, the reduced model of the very
passions and violences of what the future held in store for the Powers of
the Old World? Here and there, perhaps, rare minds had a suspicion of
that possibility, while they watched Old Europe stage-managing fussily by
means of notes and conferences, the prophetic reproduction of its
awaiting fate.
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