“Ask the oracle,” said Audrey's clear voice, “Ask Clay. He knows all there is to know.”
“I didn't hear it, but I suppose it is when the war will end?”
“Amazing perspicacity,” some one said.
“I can only give you my own opinion. Ten years if we don't go in. Possibly four if we do.”
There were clamors of dissent.
“None of them can hold out so long.”
“If we go in it will end in six months.”
“Nonsense! The Allies are victorious now:”
“I only gave an opinion,” he protested. “One man's guess is just as good as another's. All I contend is that it is going on to a finish. The French and English are not going to stop until they have made the Hun pay in blood for what he has cost them.”
“I wish I were a man,” Audrey said' suddenly. “I don't see how any man with red blood in his veins can sit still, and not take a gun and try to stop it. Sometimes I think I'll cut off my hair, and go over anyhow. I've only got one accomplishment. I can shoot. I'd like to sit in a tree somewhere and pick them off. The butchers!”