"No—not long. In fact," said Vane looking fixedly at Joan, "I only got my orders last night. . . ." With the faintest flicker of a smile he watched the tell-tale colour come and go.
Then she turned on him, and her expression was a little baffling. "And have you any special qualification, Captain Vane, for dealing with such an intricate subject?"
"Intricate?" He raised his eyebrows. "I should have thought it was very simple. Just a matter of common sense, and making . . . er . . . these men—well—get their sense of proportion."
"You mean making them get your sense of proportion?"
"In some cases there can be only one," said Vane gravely.
"And that one is your own. These—German prisoners you said, didn't you?—these German prisoners may think it their duty to disagree with your views. Doubtless from patriotic motives. . . ."
"That would be a great pity," said Vane. "It would then be up to me to make them see the error of their ways."
"And if you fail?" asked the girl.
"Somehow I don't think I shall," he answered slowly. "But if I do—the trouble of which I spoke will not diminish. It will increase. . . ."
"We pander too much to these swine," grumbled Mr. Sutton. "It makes me sick when I hear of the way our boys are treated by the brutes. A damn good flogging twice a day—you'll pardon my language, is what they want."