The while, world-wide forces, the hunger-struggle of nations, were shaking the roof above their heads.

Theoretically they knew it.

But they could escape in time; they had a cosy little corner preserved for themselves, safe from these pestilent worries.

Fate has a grudge against the foolishly secure.

If he laughed now, it was in self-mockery.
The night of London, always rife with mysterious sounds, spoke dreadfully to his straining ear.