If I've violated my principles in order to
meet her wishes, I think you ought to meet them too. You wouldn't
like to marry a small tradesman or a working man, would you?"
"I'm not going to marry anybody," cried Phyllis. She was only a
pink and white, very ordinary little girl. I have no idealisations
or illusions concerning Phyllis. But she had a little fine steel
of character running through her. It flashed on Gedge.
"I don't want to marry anybody," she declared. "But I'd sooner
marry a bricklayer who was fighting for his country than a fine
gentleman like Mr. Holmes who wasn't. I'd sooner die," she cried
passionately.
"Then go and die and be damned to you!" snarled Gedge, planting
himself noisily in his chair. "I've no use for khaki-struck
drivelling idiots. I've no use for patriots. Bah! Damn patriots!
The upper classes are out for all they can get, and they befool
the poor imbecile working man with all their highfalutin phrases
to get it for them at the cost of his blood. I've no use for them,
I tell you. And I've no use either for undutiful daughters. I've
no use for young women who blow hot and cold. Haven't I seen you
with the fellow? Do you think I'm a blind dodderer? Do you think I
haven't kept an eye on you? Haven't I seen you blowing as hot as
you please? And now because he refuses to be a blinking idiot and
have his guts blown out in this war of fools and knaves and
capitalists, you blast him like a three-farthing iceberg.
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