So she nagged him and taunted him, and would hear no word of his case.  And he wanted dreadfully to discuss his case.  He felt that the point of conscience about the munitions was particularly fine and difficult.  He wished she would listen and enter into it more.  But she thought with that more rapid English flash which is not so much thinking as feeling.  He loved that flash in her in spite of his persuasion of its injustice.

Her thought that he ought to go to the war made him feel like a renegade; but her claim that he was somehow still English held him in spite of his reason.  In the midst of such perplexities he was glad to find one neutral task wherein he could find himself whole-heartedly with and for Cissie.

He hunted up the evidence of Teddy’s fate with a devoted pertinacity.

And in the meanwhile the other riddle resolved itself.  He had had a certain idea in his mind for some time.  He discovered one day that it was an inspiration.  He could keep his conscientious objection about America, and still take a line that would satisfy Cissie.  He took it.

When he came down to Matching’s Easy at her summons to bear his convincing witness of Teddy’s fate, he came in an unwonted costume.  It was a costume so wonderful in his imagination that it seemed to cry aloud, to sound like a trumpet as he went through London to Liverpool Street station; it was a costume like an international event; it was a costume that he felt would blare right away to Berlin.  And yet it was a costume so commonplace, so much the usual wear now, that Cissie, meeting him at the station and full of the thought of Letty’s trouble, did not remark it, felt indeed rather than observed that he was looking more strong and handsome than he had ever done since he struck upon her imagination in the fantastic wrap that Teddy had found for him in the merry days when there was no death in the world.  And Letty too, resistant, incalculable, found no wonder in the wonderful suit.

He bore his testimony.  It was the queer halting telling of a patched-together tale....

“I suppose,” said Letty, “if I tell you now that I don’t believe that that officer was Teddy you will think I am cracked....  But I don’t.”

She sat staring straight before her for a time after saying this.  Then suddenly she got up and began taking down her hat and coat from the peg behind the kitchen door.  The hanging strap of the coat was twisted and she struggled with it petulantly until she tore it.

“Where are you going?” cried Cissie.

Letty’s voice over her shoulder was the harsh voice of a scolding woman.

“I’m going out—­anywhere.”  She turned, coat in hand.  “Can’t I go out if I like?” she asked.  “It’s a beautiful day....  Mustn’t I go out?...  I suppose you think I ought to take in what you have told me in a moment.  Just smile and say ‘Indeed!’ ...  Abandoned!—­while his men retreated!  How jolly!  And then not think of it any more....  Besides, I must go out.  You two want to be left together.  You want to canoodle.  Do it while you can!”