They've about spoiled the army
with them."
"You wouldn't do it for pleasure?"
"What--reading?" He shook his head decidedly. "Not while I could be
doing anything else."
"Not history or poetry?"
He looked at her again nervously. But the girl's face was gay, and he
ventured on the truth.
"Well, no, I can't say I do. My father reads a deal of poetry aloud."
"And it bores you?"
"Well, I don't understand it," he said, slowly and candidly.
"Don't you even read the papers?" asked Diana, wondering.
He started.
"Why, I should think I do!" he cried. "I should rather think I do!
That's another thing altogether--that's not books."
"Then perhaps you read the debate last night?" She looked at him with a
kindling eye.
"Of course I did--every word of it! Do you know what those Radical
fellows are up to now? They'll never rest until we've lost the
Khaibar--and then the Lord only knows what'll happen."
Diana flew into discussion--quick breath, red cheeks! Mrs. Colwood
looked on amazed.
Presently both appealed to her, the Anglo-Indian. But she smiled and
stammered--declining the challenge. Beside their eagerness, their
passion, she felt herself tongue-tied.
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