“And the house?”
“Held up by cold weather now. It should be finished by the end of April.”
“Clay,” she said, after a moment, “are you going to employ women in the new munition works?”
“In certain departments, yes.”
“I have a girl I want work for. She's not trained, of course.”
“None of them are. We have to teach them. I can give you a card to the employment department if you want it.”
“Thanks.”
There was a short silence. She sat looking at the fire, and he had a chance to notice the change in her. She had visualized it herself. Her long ear-rings were gone, and with them some of the insolence they had seemed to accentuate. She was not rouged, and he had thought at first, for that reason, that she looked ill. She was even differently dressed, in something dark and girlish with a boyish white Eton collar.
“I wonder if you think I'm hiding, Clay,” she said, finally.
“Well, what are you doing?” He smiled down at her from the hearth-rug.