The old man regarded her, at a loss why the child should be agitated, she who had always seemed happy enough with her sisters at home.
"But, Olwen fach, if you don't go back, what do you want to do?"
"I want to stay on in London, Uncle!"
"In London—dear me—curious taste! Why? What could you do there?"
"I could do War work, like lots and lots—like every other girl!"
"Tut," retorted the Professor. Being a Welshman, he pronounced this word to rhyme with "foot." Being a man of his generation, he still disliked to think of any girl at work except domestically or for him.
"What d'you want to do that for, Olwen fach?"
To this question Olwen could hardly answer with the whole truth.
How many girls insist upon working in London because there, also, is working their particular Captain Ross?
Olwen's mind was set upon a plan.