A few weeks later the War Office--if it was the War Office, but one gets into the habit of attributing these things to the War Office--had one of its regular spasms.

It woke up suddenly with a touch of nightmare, and it got fearfully busy for a few weeks before going to sleep again.

All manner of innocent people were dragged into the vortex of its activities, and blameless lives were disturbed and terrorised.

This particular enthusiasm involved even such placid and contented souls as the Chaplain-General, the Principal Chaplain, their entire staffs and a great many of their rank and file.

It created a new department, acquired many additional offices for the B.E.F., dragged from their comfortable billets a certain number of high-principled base officers, and then (by the mercy of Providence) flickered out almost as soon as the said officers bad made themselves a little more comfortable than before in their new posts.
It was so widespread a disturbance that even Peter Graham, most harmless of men, with plenty of his own fish to fry, was dragged into it, as some leaf, floating placidly downstream, may be caught and whirled away in an excited eddy.