“I like that!” he said. “It’s not my Play that’s failing, is it? Go and tell him the Skeme, and then let his manager work it out. And tell him who I am, and that I have a lot of Ideas, but this is the only one I’m giving away.”
We had arived at the house by that time and I invited him to come in. But he only glansed bitterly at the Windows and observed that they had taken in the mat with Welcome on it, as far as he was concerned. And went away.
Although we have never had a mat with Welcome on it.
Dear Dairy, I wonder if father would do it? He is gentle and kind-hearted, and it would be painfull to him. But to who else can I turn in my extremity?
I have but one hope. My father is like me. He can be coaxed and if kindly treated will do anything. But if aproached in the wrong way, or asked to do somthing against his principals, he becomes a Roaring Lion.
He would never be bully-ed into giving a Man work, even so touching a Personallity as Adrian’s.
Later: I meant to ask father tonight, but he has just heard of Beresford and is in a terrable temper. He says Sis can’t marry him, because he is sure there are plenty of things he could be doing in England, if not actualy fighting.
“He could probably run a bus, and releace some one who can fight,” he shouted. “Or he could at least do an honest day’s work with his hands. Don’t let me see him, that’s all.”
“Do I understand that you forbid him the house?” Leila asked, in a cold furey.
“Just keep him out of my sight,” father snaped. “I supose I can’t keep him from swilling tea while I am away doing my part to help the Allies——”