"I just must do something."

"All right. That's settled. I've got the thing I spoke about, in one of

the officers' training-camps. But remember, Delight, this is not going

to be a romantic adventure. It's to be work."

"I don't want a romantic adventure, Mrs. Valentine."

"Poor little thing," Audrey reflected to herself. And aloud: "Good! Of

course I know you're sincere about working. I--I understand, awfully

well."

Delight was pleased, but Audrey saw that she was not happy. Even when

the details had been arranged she still sat in her straight chair and

made no move to go. And Audrey felt that the next move was up to her.

"What's the news about Graham Spencer?" she inquired. "He'll be drafted,

I suppose."

"Not if they claim exemption. He's making shells, you know."

She lifted rather heavy eyes to Audrey's.

"His mother is trying that now," she said. "Ever since his engagement

was broken?"

"Oh, it was broken, was it?"

"Yes. I don't know why. But it's off. Anyhow Mrs. Spencer is telling

everybody he can't be spared."

"And his father?"

"I don't know. He doesn't talk about it, I think."

"Perhaps he wants him to make his own decision."

Delight rose and drew down her veil with hands that Audrey saw were

trembling a little.

"How can he make his own decision?" she asked. "He may think it's his

own, but it's hers, Mrs. Spencer's. She's always talking, always. And

she's plausible. She can make him think black is white, if she wants

to."

"Why don't you talk to him?"

"I? He'd think I'd lost my mind! Besides, that isn't it. If you--like a

man, you want him to do the right thing because he wants to, not because

a girl asks him to."

"I wonder," Audrey said, slowly, "if he's worth it, Delight?"

"Worth what?" She was startled.

"Worth your--worth our worrying about him."

But she did not need Delight's hasty and flushed championship of Graham

to tell her what she already knew.

After she had gone, Audrey sat alone in her empty rooms and faced a

great temptation. She was taking herself out of Clayton's life. She knew

that she would be as lost to him among the thousands of workers in the

munition plant as she would have been in Russia. According to Clare, he

rarely went into the shops themselves, and never at night.




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