[pg 22] All the while Marie was talking, in the midst of this strange sad scene, the irregular punctuation kept on.
Boom—boom . . . . boom . . . . boom—boom—boom.
With many a shrug of the shoulders, and many a shake of her pretty head, Marie related to Henare all she dared of the brutal and revolting conduct of the Germans when first they swept over the border. She told him of the coarseness, the drunkenness, and the bullying of all ranks and grades of the invading Huns.
Every now and again Henare ground his teeth, and muttered "Py cripes; I pay him out," and "Te taipo, te bally taipo." When he heard as much as he could stand, he ventured the remark, "I tink the Sherman soldier no hurt te gell and te woman, eh?"
Marie looked at him a moment, and then said, "What you say, M'sieur?"
[pg 23] "I say te ole brute no hurt te wahine an' te piccanini—te woman an' te gell"—he answered slowly.
"Oh dear me," said Marie in real surprise, "did you nefar read ze newspaper?"
"Oh, my korry," he replied, "I can't read te Prenchy langwidge, all te word spell wrong, and te talk all silly."
"No, no, no, M'sieur, ze French speech ees ze most beauteeful in all ze land."
"Werra, where te Maori come in?"