"Durdles, I want him for my friend. I do--I do. When I look at him and
think of Boris and the others I don't want to speak to any one of them
again. I only want him for my friend. I'm getting old now, and they
can't treat me as a child any longer. I'll show them. I know what I'll
do if I can't have the friends I want and if Vera is always managing
me--I'll go off to Boris."
"My dear Nina," I said, "you mustn't do that. You don't care for him."
"No, I know I don't--but I will go if everybody thinks me a baby. And
Durdles--Durdles, please--make him like me--your Mr. Lawrence."
She said his name with the funniest little accent.
"Nina, dear," I said, "will you take a little piece of advice from me?"
"What is it?" she asked doubtfully.
"Well, this.... Don't you make any move yourself. Just wait and you'll
see he'll like you. You'll make him shy if you--"
But she interrupted me furiously in one of her famous tempers.
"Oh, you Englishmen with your shyness and your waiting and your
coldness! I hate you all, and I wish we were fighting with the Germans
against you. Yes, I do--and I hope the Germans win.
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