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Just how
far Natalie's methods threatened to undermine his character was
revealed when, at a sound in Clayton's room, he stuck the money
hastily into his pocket.
"Have you noticed a change in your father since he came back?"
Her tone was so ominous that he started.
"He's not sick, is he?"
"Not that. But - he's different. Graham, your father thinks we
may be forced into the war."
"Good for us. It's time, that's sure."
"Graham!"
"Why, good heavens, mother," he began, "we should have been in it
last May. We should - "
She was holding out both hands to him, piteously.
"You wouldn't go, would you?"
"I might have to go," he evaded.
"You wouldn't, Graham. You're all I have. All I have left to live
for. You wouldn't need to go. It's ridiculous. You're needed here.
Your father needs you."
"He needs me the hell of a lot," the boy muttered. But he went over
and, stooping down, kissed her trembling face.
"Don't worry about me," he said lightly. "I don't think we've got
spine enough to get into the mix-up, anyhow.


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