Diana laughed, and hoped he got as much as he desired. Then he was not like his father--who cared so much for books?
"Oh, books!" He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, the fact is, I--I don't often read if I can help it. But of course they make you do a lot of it--with these beastly examinations. They've about spoiled the army with them."
"You wouldn't do it for pleasure?"
"What--reading?" He shook his head decidedly. "Not while I could be doing anything else."
"Not history or poetry?"
He looked at her again nervously. But the girl's face was gay, and he ventured on the truth.
"Well, no, I can't say I do. My father reads a deal of poetry aloud."
"And it bores you?"
"Well, I don't understand it," he said, slowly and candidly.
"Don't you even read the papers?" asked Diana, wondering.