d call a lady's tea-party."

"Who wants a lady's tea-party? I ought to have gone in with the Mac
Corps. Then I'd have had a chance."

"Not this time. Mac draws the line somewhere.... Look here, Gwinnie, I
wish you'd clear out a minute and let me talk to John."

Gwinnie went, grumbling.

For a moment silence came down between them. John was drinking coffee
with an air of being alone in the room, pretending that he hadn't heard
and didn't see her.

"John--I didn't mind driving that car. I knew I could do it and I did it.
I won't say I didn't mind the shelling, because I did. Still, shelling's
all in the day's work. And I didn't mind your sending me, because I'd
rather have gone myself than let you go. I don't want you to be killed.
Somehow that's still the one thing I couldn't bear. But if you'd sent
Gwinnie I'd have killed you."

"I didn't send Gwinnie. I gave you your chance. I knew you wanted to cut
Mrs. Rankin out."

"I? I never thought of such a rotten thing."

"Well, you talked about danger as if you liked it."

"So did you."

"Oh--_go_ to hell."

"I've just come from there."

"Oh--so you were frightened, were you?"

"Yes, I was horribly frightened. I had thirteen wounded men with me. What
do you suppose it feels like, driving a heavy ambulance car by yourself?
You can't sit in front and steer and look after thirteen wounded men at
the same time. I had to keep hopping in and out. That isn't nice when
there's shells about. I shall never forgive you for not coming to give a
hand with those men. There's funk you can forgive and--"

She thought: "It's John--John--I'm saying these disgusting things to.
I'm as bad as Trixie, telling him what I bloody well think of him, going
back on him."

"And there's funk--"

"You'd better take care, Charlotte. Do you know I could get you fired out
of Belgium to-morrow?"

"Not after to-night, I think." (It was horrible.)

He got up and opened the door. "Anyhow, you'll clear out of this room
now, damn you."

"I wish you'd heard that Army doctor damning _you_."

"Why didn't he go back with you himself, then?"

"_He_ couldn't leave his wounded."

He slammed the door hard behind her.

That was just like him. Wounded men everywhere, trying to sleep, and he
slammed doors. He didn't care.

She would have to go on lying. She had made up her mind to that. So long
as it would keep the others from knowing, so long as John's awfulness
went beyond their knowledge, so