oking, spoiled boy like that always plunges
headlong into any adventure that attracts him. Women have always made
love to him and Robin will make great eyes, and blush and look at him
from under her lashes as if she were going to cry with joy--like Alice
in the Ben Bolt song. She'll 'weep with delight when he gives her a
smile and tremble with fear at his frown.' His mother can't stop it,
however furious she may be. Nothing can stop that sort of thing when it
once begins."

"If England declares war Donal Muir will have more serious things to do
than pursue adventures," was Coombe's comment. He looked serious himself
as he said the words, because they brought before him the bodily
strength and beauty of the lad. He seemed suddenly to see him again as
he had looked when he was dancing. And almost at the same moment he saw
other scenes than ball-rooms and heard sounds other than those drawn
forth by musicians screened with palms. He liked the boy. He was not his
son, but he liked him. If he had been his son, he thought--! He had been
through the monster munition works at Essen several times and he had
heard technical talks of inventions, the sole reason for whose presence
in the world was that they had the power to blow human beings into
unrecognisable, ensanguined shreds and to tear off limbs and catapult
them into the air. He had heard these powers talked of with a sense of
natural pride in achievement, in fact with honest and cheerful self
gratulation.

He had known Count Zeppelin well and heard his interesting explanation
of what would happen to a thickly populated city on to which bombs were
dropped.

But Feather's view was lighter and included only such things as she
found entertaining.

"If there's a war the heirs of great families won't be snatched at
first," she quite rattled on. "There'll be a sort of economising in that
sort of thing. Besides he's very young and he isn't in the Army. He'd
have to go through some sort of training. Oh, he'll have time! And
there'll be so much emotion and excitement and talk about parting
forever and 'This may be the last time we ever meet' sort of thing that
every boy will have adventure--and not only boys. When I warned Robin,
the night before she went away, I did not count on war or I could have
said more--"

"What did you warn her of?"

"Of making mistakes about the men who would make love to her. I warned
her against imagining she was as safe as she would be if she wer