Who Cares? a story of adolescence by Cosmo Hamilton
page 75 of 344 (21%)
page 75 of 344 (21%)
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"Our time? What time?"
"The time when we have to get into this melee or become the pariah dog among countries. I don't profess to any knowledge of international affairs, but any fool can see that our sham neutrality will be the most costly piece of political blundering ever perpetrated in history. Here we are in 1915. The war's nine months old. For every day we stand aside we shall eventually pay a year's bill." "That's all too deep for me," said Joan. "And anyway, I shan't be asked to pay anything. What shall we do now?" "What would you like to do? Go on to the Ritz and dance?" He had a sudden desire to hold this girl in his arms. "Why not? I'm on the verge of getting fed up with this place. Let's give civilization a turn." "I think so." He beckoned to his waiter." The check," he said. "Sharp's the word, please." The Crystal Room was not content with one band. Even musicians must sometimes pause for breath, and anything like a break in the jangle and noise might bring depression to the diners who had crowded in to dance. As soon, therefore, as the left band was exhausted, the one on the right sprang in with renewed and feverish energy. Whatever melody there might have been in the incessant ragtime and fox trots was lost beneath the bang and clang of drum and cymbals, to which had been added other more ingenious ear tortures in the shape of |
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