“We are dining at home,” said Natalie, coldly. She remained standing near the door, as a hint to the shabby gentleman with the alert eyes who stood by the table. But Dunbar had forgotten her already.
“I came here right away,” he explained, “because you may be having trouble now. In fact, I'm pretty sure you will. If we declare war to-morrow, as we may?”
“War!” said Natalie, and took a step forward.
Dunbar remembered her.
“We will probably declare war in a day or two. The Germans...”
But Natalie was looking at Clayton with a hostility in her eyes she took no trouble to conceal.
“I hope you'll be happy, now. You've been talking war, wanting war—and now you've got it.”
She turned and went out of the room. The three men in the library below heard her go up the stairs and the slam of her door behind her. Later on she sent word that she did not care for any dinner, and Clayton asked Dunbar to remain. Practical questions as to the mill were discussed, Graham entering into them with a new interest. He was flushed and excited. But Clayton was rather white and very quiet.
Once Graham took advantage of Dunbar's preoccupation with his asparagus to say:
“You don't object to the aviation service, father?”