"Margery, Margery," said John, "really your language——I shall have to write to the papers about you."
"That's the idea," I joined in. "'The Modern Flapper,' by 'Broad-minded but Shocked.' You'd better look out, Margery, or you'll never marry. The papers are full of letters about people like you. There's a beauty this morning. Half a minute; I'll read it to you."
"Don't trouble yourself, please," said Margery, curling her lip up somewhere over her right eyebrow.
"No trouble at all, it's a pleasure," I said, turning over the pages. "Ah! here we are. This is signed 'Disgusted Ex-Soldier.' Listen:—
"'Sir,—Speaking as one but recently returned to so-called civilisation after the horrors of two years of war ["Conscript!" said John], may I venture to give you my opinion of the Modern Girl ...'"
"That's you he means," said John.
"Pah!" said Margery.
"And bah! to you twice," said John.
"Shush, both of you," I said; "listen to 'Disgusted Ex-Soldier':—
"'What was it kept up our hearts and spirits during the terrible days and nights in the trenches?'"