there was anyone else to look at when he was by. That man in blue and red with the big black beard. Oh, Decky, he is sweet, isn't he? Do you think he's a Sikh or a Nepalese?'
'Certainly not Nepalese,' grunted 'Decky.'
'Oh, then he's a Sikh. I know he's a Sikh. But I thought Sikhs always wore green turbans. And a Sikh doesn't smoke, does he? Oh, I wish you were a Sikh, Decky.'
'Decky' said nothing, but I guess he squirmed. Everybody anywhere near round heard that she wished he were a Sikh, and it couldn't have been just pleasant.
For a moment there was a pause while the fool-woman scanned the landscape with her field-glasses. Then a gun boomed out and she began again.
'Oh, there are the guns, Decky. Somebody must be coming. Oh, Decky, don't the guns always make you feel ready for anything? I do wish you were a soldier, Decky. I am sure I should have been if I had been a man.'
I devoutly wished she had been a man. She might have been a fool even then, but a fool-man is better than a fool-woman any day. A man is so dreadfully afraid of ridicule that he never dare let himself go like a woman does.
'And the national anthem. Oh, Decky, I just love it. It makes me feel so loyal every time I hear it. Even when it's only played for one of the minor royalties I feel all prickly just the same.'
But I will not describe any more of her inanities.
