More wily than Leonard, she
had escaped from Aunt Hortense, who, in true English fashion, had not
appeared to be aware of her presence until well on toward the middle of
the evening, after the men had left; then she turned to Marjorie
suddenly, raising her lorgnette.
"Leonard's letters must have been very interesting to your friends in
America."
"Oh, yes," stammered Marjorie; "but he never said very much about the
war." She blushed.
"Ah," said the older woman; "I observed he was very silent on the
subject. It's a code or custom among his set in the army, you may be
sure of that. So many young officers' letters have been published," she
continued, turning to Mrs. Leeds. "Lady Alice Fryzel was telling me the
other day that she was putting all her son's letters into book form."
Marjorie had an inward vision of Leonard's letters published in book
form! She knew them by heart, written from the trenches in pencil on
lined paper--"servant paper," Leonard called it. They came in open
envelopes unstamped, except with the grim password "war zone." Long,
tired letters; short, tired letters, corrected by the censor's red ink,
and full of only "our own business," as Leonard said.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53