Caddy Buddy books

And suddenly she burst out petulantly. "What
is it you want to say?"
"He was no better than other men," he replied bluntly. "It is wrong
that you should sacrifice your life to a memory, wrong that you should
worship an idol with feet of clay."
"I loath parables," she said coldly. "Will you tell me exactly what you
mean about feet of clay?" The note in her voice was not lost on the man
by her side.
"I don't like telling you--under other conditions I wouldn't. But I do
it for both our sakes."
"Then, for goodness sake, do it!"
"I came across it accidentally at the Gordon Hotel at Brighton. He
stayed there, whilst he was engaged to you, with a lady whom he
described as Mrs. Carruthers. It was on his last leave."
"Why do you tell me this?" she asked after a silence; her voice was low
and a little husky.
"Surely, my dear, you must see. He was no better than other men. The
ideal you have conjured up is no ideal. He was a brave soldier, a
darned brave soldier, and--until we both fell in love with you--my pal.
But it is not fair that his memory should absorb you.


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