“Egbert,” she said trying to smile, and not succeeding very well, “you know your dear father went to the war.”
“Yes,” he said shortly, “to fight the Germans—the devils.”
“Egbert,” she said sharply.
“That’s what Louis calls them,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice.
“Of course, Louis is half French,” said Mrs. Bonstone in a slow voice, and trying to gain time.
“Louis says he’d like to unjoint the Kaiser,” pursued Egbert and he cracked his little finger joints as though he would separate them—“All over,” he went on, “limb by limb—Louis would enjoy doing it.”
Mrs. Bonstone gave a nervous laugh, then tears came in her eyes. “Darling,” she said coaxingly, “your father was a splendid man. He would never hate any one. All nations have good and bad people in them.”
“Did the Germans kill him?” asked Egbert quietly.
“Well, suppose they had,” asked Mrs. Bonstone, “wouldn’t he be in that lovely place called heaven, with the angels and the beautiful meadows, and watercourses, and all the happy people who are through with this wicked world?”