‘Ah! I wanted to meet you, Mr Clarke. You really don’t look like a Radical at all. You are much too nice for that.’
‘I’m being converted, Mrs Brown,’ said Nobby maliciously.
‘How splendid!’
‘What do you think of our happy home, mater?’
‘Well it does look untidy. And what a lot of papers and books!’ She picked up the Tatler. ‘John! Do you read this?’ she said, pointing to a wonderful picture by ‘Fish.’
‘Well—no, mater. The Red Cross send us old magazines to use for shaving-papers.’
‘I am so glad,’ she returned.
I did feel a rotten hypocrite.
‘Now, do all of you sleep in those little wooden things?’ pointing to the trestle-beds.
‘Oh, yes.’