"Oh, won't that be lovely, mother!" she cried, clapping her hands.
Mrs. West smiled her pleasure.
"Where are you taking us to dinner?" enquired Dorothy of John Dene.
"The Ritzton," he replied.
"Oh, but we're not dressed for that!"
"It's war time and I never dress," he announced, as if that settled the matter.
"But—" began Mrs. West hesitatingly.
"Perhaps you'd rather not come?" he began tentatively, his disappointment too obvious to disguise.
"Oh, but we want to come!" said Mrs. West, "only we're not in quite the right clothes for the Ritzton, are we?"
"Don't you worry," he reassured her; then a moment later added, "that's what I'm up against in this country. Everybody's putting on the clothes they think other people expect them to wear. If people don't like my clothes, they can look where I'm not sitting. We're not going to win this war by wearing clothes," he announced.