He whirls round on her. 'What made you do it?'

'It was everybody's war, mister, except mine.' She beats her arms.
'I wanted it to be my war too.'

'You'll need to be plainer. And yet I'm d----d if I care to hear you,
you lying old trickster.'

The words are merely what were to be expected, and so are endurable; but
he has moved towards the door.

'You're not going already, mister?'

'Yes, I just came to give you an ugly piece of my mind.'

She holds out her arms longingly. 'You haven't gave it to me yet.'

'You have a cheek!'

She gives further proof of it. 'You wouldn't drink some tea?'

'Me! I tell you I came here for the one purpose of blazing away at you.'

It is such a roaring negative that it blows her into a chair. But she is
up again in a moment, is this spirited old lady. 'You could drink the
tea while you was blazing away. There's winkles.'

'Is there?' He turns interestedly towards the table, but his proud Scots
character checks him, which is just as well, for what she should have