He turned rather savage.
"Rotten nonsense," he said to her, "when they stood waiting to be
posed.
"Oh, I don't know. They're rather pretty;"
"Pretty! Do you suppose I want it be pretty?"
"Well, I do," said Delight, calmly.
"It's fake. That's what I hate. If you were really a nurse, and
was really in uniform -! But this parading in somebody else's
clothes, or stuff hired for the occasion - it's sickening."
Delight regarded him with clear, appraising eyes.
"Why don't you get a uniform of your own, then?" she inquired. She
smiled a little.
He never knew what the effort cost her. He was pale and angry, and
his face in the tableau was so set that it brought a round of
applause. With the ringing down of the curtain he confronted her,
almost menacingly.
"What did you mean by that?" he demanded. "We've hardly got into
this thing yet."
"We are in it, Graham."
"Just because I don't leap into the first recruiting office and beg
them to take me - what right have you got to call me a slacker?"
"But I heard - "
"Go on!"
"It doesn't matter what I heard, if you are going.
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