Roy was making matters worse, and Ivor stood up, throwing aside his book. "Come!" he said shortly, with an imperative sign, and Roy followed. Outside the house Ivor remarked, "You must be more careful. You have to think of your mother's feelings."
Roy looked up in surprise. "Did I say something wrong?"
"Could you not see? She is breaking her heart at the thought of losing you. Just imagine what it will be to her not to have her boy any longer. Don't let her think you are glad to go."
"But I'm not glad to leave her. Of course I'm not. I'm only glad to go to England, and to see Molly, and to be free to fight as soon as I'm old enough. I should think she'd understand."
A curious expression crossed the other's face. "You can hardly expect her to want you to fight. That's not the way with mothers. The last thing she would wish would be for you to hold back, but she will be unhappy. You can't possibly know what the parting will be to her, but still you can be kind. Really brave men are always kind as well as brave, you know."
Roy showed signs of being impressed. He knew Denham to be so gallant a soldier that words of this sort coming from him had especial weight. Neither spoke again directly. Roy walked fast, doing his best to match Ivor's long stride, though compelled now and then to make a droll little extra step, if he would not be left behind.
"Yes, of course," he said at length. "I suppose that's what we men have to do. I mean, we have to try not to make women unhappy. When I get back I don't mean ever to make Molly cry again."
The application for Roy's passport was duly made, and a formal reply promised attention. There the matter stood still. Colonel Baron deferred the journey to Verdun as long as possible, hoping to receive the passport; but it failed to arrive.
Some discussion took place as to the possibility of leaving Roy in Fontainebleau; but this, in the then state of France, was felt to be too great a risk. Once parted, they might be unable to come together again. And though a good deal of kindness had been shown to English prisoners by French residents, yet there was no one with whom they could be content to place Roy for an indefinite time. Not Colonel Baron only, but his wife too, by this time greatly regretted not having sent Roy home at the first, when leave had been more readily granted.
Roy rebelled angrily. He had liked to talk of himself grandly as a "prisoner of war," feeling that he was free. It was another matter to find himself really a prisoner, and he was unhappy and furious by turns.