Sven digital books

You don't know how
lucky you are."
"But is your Mother willing?"
"Why, what sort of a mother do you think I have?"
Clayton overheard that, and he saw Graham wince. His own hands
clenched. What a power in the world a brave woman was! And what
evil could be wrought by a woman without moral courage, a selfish
woman. He brought himself up short at that.
Others came in. Hutchinson, from the mill. Terry Mackenzie, Rodney
Page, in evening clothes and on his way from the opera to something
or other. In a corner Graham and Delight talked. The rector, in a
high state of exaltation, was inclined to be oratorical and a trifle
noisy. He dilated on the vast army that would rise overnight, at
the call. He considered the raising of a company from his own
church, and nominated Clayton as its captain. Nolan grinned
sardonically.
"Precisely," he said dryly. "Clayton, because he looks like a Greek
god, is ideally fitted to lead a lot of men who never saw a bayonet
outside of a museum.


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