really inevitable war-depression, paid scant heed to such reports. The Americans, however, easily took alarm. One, I remember, actually spoke to me about the matter with a terror only equalled, in my experience, by that of the Cabinet Minister's brother who once asked me: "How I could do anything so foolish as to live in a harem?"
It was a poor compliment to one of Turkey's greatest statesmen, and to my hostess, his distinguished daughter.
But when I found that Roget's "Thesaurus" gives as synonym for a harem, "a house of ill fame," I understood!
Turkey, however, was crushed, defeated and, at Sèvres, humiliated. Were we not courting disaster by such unjust terms? If we remove the foot holding them down—but ever so slightly—will they rebound and strike?
"I cannot understand," I said to one of their delegates, "how a Turk could be found to sign such a Treaty." For always, with all their faults, I had known them proud.
"Had we not signed," he answered, "the Greeks would have entered Constantinople, and God knows when we could have driven them out. What does it matter, the Treaty will not be ratified."
To keep out the Greeks, to save bloodshed! Maybe he was right.
"At least, we are set free from Germany," they said; and there is little we could not have asked then for such security.
They would have allowed Great Britain any privileges, any concessions, all sovereign rights, if only we had not permitted the occupation of Smyrna! When the Dutch pasteur, M. Lebouvier, sent the Times a full description of all the hideous bloodshed, the saturnalian orgies, and the riot with which the Greeks celebrated their triumphal entry, it was suppressed—and Englishmen do not know!
Consternation, despair, and anger were the order
