“Certainly not,” she answered, putting the tips of her fingers into the shallow pockets of her pilot jacket. “Don’t you know the United States are long since independent of England?”
“I had forgotten for the moment. My knowledge of history is rather limited, even when I try to remember. Still, independence and all, the two countries may be friends, may they not?”
“I doubt it. It seems to be natural that an American should hate an Englishman.”
“Dear me, is it so bad as that? Why, may I ask? Is it on account of the little trouble in 1770, or whenever it was?”
“1776, when we conquered you.”
“Were we conquered? That is another historical fact which has been concealed from me. I am afraid England doesn’t quite realise her unfortunate position. She has a good deal of go about her for a conquered nation. But I thought the conquering, which we all admit, was of much more recent date, when the pretty American girls began to come over. Then Englishmen at once capitulated.”
“Yes,” she cried scornfully. “And I don’t know which to despise most, the American girls who marry Englishmen, or the Englishmen they marry. They are married for their money.”
“Who? The Englishmen?”
The girl stamped her foot on the deck as they turned around.
“You know very well what I mean. An Englishman thinks of nothing but money.”