Part 41 (2/2)
If you wore his suit of feathers you would still look like British officers and nothing else.”
”You're encouraging,” said Desmond grimly. ”I hope all your nation won't be as discerning.”
”Ach--they!” said the girl. ”They see no farther than their noses.
I, too, was like that before I went to Clapham.”
”It's a pleasant spot,” said Desmond. ”I don't wonder you improved there. But all the same, you are German, aren't you? I don't quite see why you want to befriend us.” He took a satisfying mouthful of sausage. ”But I'm glad you do.”
”In England I am--well, pretty German,” said his fair hostess. ”The boys in Clapham, they call me Polly Sauer Kraut. And I talk of the Fatherland, and sing 'Die Wacht am Rhein.' Oh yes. But when I come back here and work for my so economical uncle on this beastly farm, then I remember Clapham and I do not feel German at all. I cannot help it. But if I said so, I would skinned be, very quickly. So I say 'Gott Strafe England!' But that is only eyewas.h.!.+”
”Well, we'll think kindly of one German woman, anyhow,” said Desmond.
”The last of your charming sisters I met was a Red Cross nurse at a station where our train pulled up when I was going through, wounded.
I asked her for a gla.s.s of water, and she brought it to me all right--only just as she gave it to me she spat in it. I've been a woman-hater ever since, until I met you.” He lifted the bucket, and looked at her over its rim. ”Here's your very good health, Miss Polly Sauer Kraut, and may I meet you in Clapham!”
The girl beamed.
”Oh, I will be there,” she said confidently. ”I have money in the Bank in London: I will have a little baker shop, and you will get such pastry as the English cannot make.”
Jim laughed.
”And then you will be pretty German again!”
”I do not know.” She shook her head. ”No, I think I will just be Swiss. They will not know the difference in Clapham. And I do not think they will want Germans back. Of course, the Germans will go--but they will call themselves Swiss, Poles, any old thing. Just at first, until the English forget: the English always forget, you know.”
”If they forget all they've got to remember over this business--well then, they deserve to get the Germans back,” said Desmond, grimly.
”Always excepting yourself, Miss Polly. You'd be an ornament to whichever nation you happened to favour at the moment.” He finished the last remnant of his sausage. ”That was uncommonly good, thank you. Now, don't you think we could make a move?”
”I will see if my uncle is safely in. Then I will whistle.” She ran down the ladder, and presently they heard a low call, and going down, found her awaiting them in the cow-shed.
”He is at his supper, so all is quite safe,” she said. ”Now you had better take the third road to the right, and keep straight on. It is not so direct as the main road, but that would lead you through several places where the police are very active--and there is a reward for you, you know!” She laughed, her white teeth flas.h.i.+ng in the dim shed. ”Good-bye; and when I come back to Clapham you will come and take tea at my little shop.”
”We'll come and make you the fas.h.i.+on, Miss Polly,” said Desmond.
”Thank you a thousand times.” They swung off into the dusk.
CHAPTER XVII
LIGHTS OUT
”There was two of every single thing in the Ark,” said Geoffrey firmly. ”The man in Church read it out of the Bible.”
”Two Teddy-bears?” asked Alison.
”No; Teddies are only toys. There was real bears, though.”
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