“Oh, do I, Rick!”
The baronet's son had come to London to enlist in the Royal Flying Corps, and at the home of one of his school friends had met a girl just his age, a student at a college not far from his training camp. They had hit it off together, and used to meet whenever Rick had free time. “We talked about love,” he said, “and I told her I'd never had a girl. Of course all the chaps want to have one before they go to the front — and all the girls want to have them, it seems. She said she'd try it with me, and we were both quite happy — only of course there wasn't very much time.”
Rick paused. “And then?” said Lanny.
“Well, I knew I was going across in a week or so; and Nina — her name is Nina Putney — told me she wanted to have a baby. I mightn't come back — lots of the fellows have been downed on their first flight.”
“I know,” said Lanny.
“I said: 'What will you do, alone?' And she said: 'I know what I want. I can take care of it somehow.' She has a sister who's an interior decorator, and would take her in. You know people don't pay so much attention to illegitimacy in wartime; they make excuses. And Nina broke down — she said she had to have something to remember me by. I couldn't very well say no.”
“Is she going to have it?”
“So she writes me.”
“You married her before that?”
“I thought I ought to tell the pater; if he was going to have a grandchild, he'd want to be sure about it. He looked up the family and found out they were all right — I mean, what he calls all right-so then he said we ought to get married. So we got a special license and went over to the church, the night before I reported for duty.”