Her voice quivered as she spoke now.

"Are you going?" she asked. "Will that have to be?"

Michael looked at her a moment with infinite tenderness.

"Oh, my dear, of course it will," he said. "Of course, one doesn't know yet what the War Office will do about the Army. I suppose it's possible that they will send troops to France. All that concerns me is that I shall rejoin again if they call up the Reserves."

"Yes, I should think that is inevitable. And you know there's something big about it. I'm not warlike, you know, but I could not fail to be a soldier under these new conditions, any more than I could continue being a soldier when all it meant was to be ornamental. Hermann in bursts of pride and patriotism used to call us toy-soldiers. But he's wrong now; we're not going to be toy- soldiers any more."

She did not answer him, but he felt her hand press close in the palm of his.

"I can't tell you how I dreaded we shouldn't go to war," he said. "That has been a nightmare, if you like. It would have been the end of us if we had stood aside and seen Germany violate a solemn treaty."

Even with Michael close to her, the call of her blood made itself audible to Sylvia. Instinctively she withdrew her hand from his.

(Editor：internet)