"A war? Why, who is going to fight? The Greeks and the—the—the what?"
"The Turks. I'm going right over there."
"Why, that's dreadful, Rufus," said the girl, mournfull
and shocked. "You might get hurt or something."
Presently she asked: "And aren't you going to be in
London any time at all?"
"Oh," he answered, puffing out his lips, "I may stop in Londom for three or four days on my way home. I'm not sure of it."
"And when will that be?"
"Oh, I can't tell. It may be in three or four months, or it may be a year from now. When the war stops."
There was a long silence as the walked up and down the swaying deck.
"Do you know," said Nora at last, "I like you, Rufus Coleman. I don't know any good reason for it either, unless it is because you are such a brute. Now, when I was asking you if you were to be in London you were perfectly detestable. You know I was anxious."
"I—detestable?" cried Coleman, feigning amazement.
"Why, what did I say?"
"It isn't so much what you said—" began Nora slowlly.
Then she suddenly changed her manner.
"Oh, well, don't let's talk about it any more. It's
too foolish. Only-you are a disagreeable person sometimes."