“None tonight, I hope, dear.”
“Kiss me, Lanny. If we're going to die, let it be that way.”
The uproar died away even more suddenly than it had come; they slept awhile, and early in the morning, when they got up, Lanny found a fragment of a shell near the broken window. It wasn't much more than an inch square, but had unpleasantly jagged edges. He said: “I'll keep it for a souvenir, unless you want it.”
“We get plenty of them,” replied the student nurse.
“Maybe it's a Budd.” He knew, of course, that the British were using Budd shrapnel. “I'll see if my father can tell.”
“They gather up the pieces and use them again,” explained Rosemary.
That was her casual way. She told him to phone her or wire her as to when he would be sailing. She didn't know if she could get another leave, but she would try.
They went outside, and heard newsboys shouting, and saw posters in large letters: “U.S.A. in War!” “America Joins!” While the scion of Budd Gunmakers had been gathering rosebuds with the granddaughter of Lord Dewthorpe, the Senate of the United States had voted a declaration to the effect that a condition of war already existed between that country and Germany.
XI
It was a pleasant time to be in London. There were celebrations in the streets, and the usually self-contained islanders were hunting for some American, so that they could shake him by the hand and say: “Thanks, old chap, this is grand, we're all brothers now, and when will you be coming over?” Lanny asked his father if this would help him in getting contracts; Robbie said they'd expect him to give the patents now — but no such instructions had come from Newcastle, Connecticut!