Though she talked war constantly to everyone else she never
mentioned it to him or before him, but she watched him like a cat
watching a mouse; and when the German retreat from the Bapaume salient
began and continued, Susan's exultation was linked up with something
deeper than anything she expressed. Surely the end was in sight--would
come now before--anyone else--could go.
"Things are coming our way at last. We have got the Germans on the run,"
she boasted. "The United States has declared war at last, as I always
believed they would, in spite of Woodrow's gift for letter writing, and
you will see they will go into it with a vim since I understand that is
their habit, when they do start. And we have got the Germans on the run,
too."
"The States mean well," moaned Cousin Sophia, "but all the vim in the
world cannot put them on the fighting line this spring, and the Allies
will be finished before that. The Germans are just luring them on. That
man Simonds says their retreat has put the Allies in a hole."
"That man Simonds has said more than he will ever live to make good,"
retorted Susan. "I do not worry myself about his opinion as long as
Lloyd George is Premier of England. He will not be bamboozled and that
you may tie to. Things look good to me. The U. S. is in the war, and we
have got Kut and Bagdad back--and I would not be surprised to see the
Allies in Berlin by June--and the Russians, too, since they have got
rid of the Czar.
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