it better to
change the subject.
‘I’ve found myself some cheap lodgings in town. They’re not much but I can’t afford better. I’ll have to do some smart reporting to impress my editor and get a
rise. Of course, if there was some money in my mother’s estate that would be splendid but it’s highly unlikely, knowing my late, drunken sire.’ He laughed, but with a touch of
bitterness.
Squeezing her hand, he wriggled nearer, making her sway as their bodies touched. Mary’s heart lurched and she knew she should pull away. Once in his arms his hypnotic aura would shatter
her resistance.
‘You mustn’t do that,’ she chided. ‘Duret is in the trenches right now and I wear his ring.’
‘More fool him then!’ he said bluntly. ‘Anyhow, all is fair in love and war.’
Mary was shocked at this outlook. For the past few years her country and the Empire had bled themselves white against the Kaiser. She remembered the awful days of the Somme ’16 when half a
million men had vanished in human hell.
She freed her hand with a sharp snatch and leaned away from him, her face cold.
‘Young, strong and healthy men went to the trenches; men who were not conscripts. Those who failed to go received white feathers from women!’
He snorted with disgust. ‘Anyone who voluntarily fights in the murder of the trenches is a raving idiot if they go of their own free will. Politicians make wars but it is the little men
who have to fight them,’ he retorted. ‘If any woman gave me a white feather I would ram it back down her throat,’ he said coldly.
Mary was appalled at his attitude as well as repulsed. ‘Are you—a coward?’
He turned to her, face bleak. ‘No, girl, I am not! And if you were a man you’d have lost your front teeth by now for thinking the question let alone asking it. Just because I happen
to show a little good sense it does not make me any less of a man.’
Mary felt ice slow in her veins and she hastened to stand. ‘That is a matter of opinion,’ she snapped at him and, turning on her heel, walked away.
‘Hey!’ he cried. ‘Where do you think you are going?’ he sprang after her, grasping her shoulder and made her halt.
‘Take your hands off me!’ Mary spat at him, disgusted with his opinions and, at the same time, widely disappointed with them. ‘You may despise our boys in trenches but I
don’t and my Duret is there right now. He could be going through hell!’
‘More fool him for volunteering!’
They stood face to face and glowered at each other. Mary’s eyes were bleak and narrow while his lips and face were a compressed, rigid mask.
‘You are a pacifist!’ she accused hotly.
‘No, I’m not!’ he shouted quickly in his defence. ‘I’ll fight as hard as the next man—when the cause is a correct one!’
‘In the meantime you have a lovely, idle time leaving your taken-for-granted peace and freedom to the suffering and bravery of others. I think perhaps Tante might just be right about you,
after all!’ she threw back at him furious with herself. Why should tears prickle at the back of her eyes? He was nothing to her, was he?
‘That’s a rotten thing to say!’ he grated, stung and deeply hurt. ‘Mary! Don’t go! Surely we can agree to disagree?’
‘On this subject—I doubt it!’
‘But I haven’t talked to you properly. I want to see you again. I must!’ he told her urgently as she pulled herself free for a second time and stumbled back towards her cycle.
‘I want to show you the island. We can explore it together. We have so much in common, we—’
‘I doubt we’ve anything in common, Victor le Page,’ Mary shouted, striding forward as he ran at her side. ‘Now get out of my way or does your fighting strength and
precious opinions only refer to weaker females?’
‘That’s uncalled for!’ he protested but stood and let her go.
Mary bent and pulled her cycle erect while the tears gathered momentum, ready to spill at any second. His
change the subject.
‘I’ve found myself some cheap lodgings in town. They’re not much but I can’t afford better. I’ll have to do some smart reporting to impress my editor and get a
rise. Of course, if there was some money in my mother’s estate that would be splendid but it’s highly unlikely, knowing my late, drunken sire.’ He laughed, but with a touch of
bitterness.
Squeezing her hand, he wriggled nearer, making her sway as their bodies touched. Mary’s heart lurched and she knew she should pull away. Once in his arms his hypnotic aura would shatter
her resistance.
‘You mustn’t do that,’ she chided. ‘Duret is in the trenches right now and I wear his ring.’
‘More fool him then!’ he said bluntly. ‘Anyhow, all is fair in love and war.’
Mary was shocked at this outlook. For the past few years her country and the Empire had bled themselves white against the Kaiser. She remembered the awful days of the Somme ’16 when half a
million men had vanished in human hell.
She freed her hand with a sharp snatch and leaned away from him, her face cold.
‘Young, strong and healthy men went to the trenches; men who were not conscripts. Those who failed to go received white feathers from women!’
He snorted with disgust. ‘Anyone who voluntarily fights in the murder of the trenches is a raving idiot if they go of their own free will. Politicians make wars but it is the little men
who have to fight them,’ he retorted. ‘If any woman gave me a white feather I would ram it back down her throat,’ he said coldly.
Mary was appalled at his attitude as well as repulsed. ‘Are you—a coward?’
He turned to her, face bleak. ‘No, girl, I am not! And if you were a man you’d have lost your front teeth by now for thinking the question let alone asking it. Just because I happen
to show a little good sense it does not make me any less of a man.’
Mary felt ice slow in her veins and she hastened to stand. ‘That is a matter of opinion,’ she snapped at him and, turning on her heel, walked away.
‘Hey!’ he cried. ‘Where do you think you are going?’ he sprang after her, grasping her shoulder and made her halt.
‘Take your hands off me!’ Mary spat at him, disgusted with his opinions and, at the same time, widely disappointed with them. ‘You may despise our boys in trenches but I
don’t and my Duret is there right now. He could be going through hell!’
‘More fool him for volunteering!’
They stood face to face and glowered at each other. Mary’s eyes were bleak and narrow while his lips and face were a compressed, rigid mask.
‘You are a pacifist!’ she accused hotly.
‘No, I’m not!’ he shouted quickly in his defence. ‘I’ll fight as hard as the next man—when the cause is a correct one!’
‘In the meantime you have a lovely, idle time leaving your taken-for-granted peace and freedom to the suffering and bravery of others. I think perhaps Tante might just be right about you,
after all!’ she threw back at him furious with herself. Why should tears prickle at the back of her eyes? He was nothing to her, was he?
‘That’s a rotten thing to say!’ he grated, stung and deeply hurt. ‘Mary! Don’t go! Surely we can agree to disagree?’
‘On this subject—I doubt it!’
‘But I haven’t talked to you properly. I want to see you again. I must!’ he told her urgently as she pulled herself free for a second time and stumbled back towards her cycle.
‘I want to show you the island. We can explore it together. We have so much in common, we—’
‘I doubt we’ve anything in common, Victor le Page,’ Mary shouted, striding forward as he ran at her side. ‘Now get out of my way or does your fighting strength and
precious opinions only refer to weaker females?’
‘That’s uncalled for!’ he protested but stood and let her go.
Mary bent and pulled her cycle erect while the tears gathered momentum, ready to spill at any second. His
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