Patricia, coming in from her afternoon walk with the children, found a tawny envelope on the hall table. The telegram was addressed “Jameson,” and she opened it casually; felt her heart stop as though two fingers had clutched it; heard Primula’s voice: “What’s the matter, Mummy?” . . .
“Nothing’s the matter, dear,” she said calmly. “You and Evelyn had better go upstairs to Nanny.”
She watched them, running up the broad stone staircase, out of sight. Then she read the pencilled message again: “Report for duty 10th Chalkshires Shoreham Camp immediately. Thompson. War Office.”
“What a fool I am,” she said to herself. “What a selfish unpatriotic fool!”
PART SIXPLAYING AT SOLDIERS