The Just William Stories: William The Intruder

The Just William Stories - which fill no less than 49 books - have been tremendously popular with adults and children alike, ever since they were first published by teacher-turned-author Richmal Crompton in 1922. They were adapted for TV in the 1960s, 1970's and 1990s. Young William doesn't know why nearly everything he does leads to trouble - just that it does. In this story, he is unable to leave his older brother, Robert, in peace to pursue his courtship of the lovely Miss Cannon.

Further stories are available on the Just William Bedtime Stories playlist.

Transcript

Hello there,

It's Mandy here.

Thanks for joining me this evening.

We're going to be listening to one of the Just William stories by Richmal Crompton.

Richmal Crompton was a teacher who didn't have any children of her own but it didn't stop her being able to get into the minds of children and William is a very good example of this.

This story is called William the Intruder but before we start please go right ahead and make yourself really comfortable.

Relax your shoulders,

Your arms and your hands and settle down into your bed or chair.

That's great.

If you're ready I'll begin.

William the Intruder.

She's different from everybody else in the world,

Stammered Robert ecstatically.

You simply couldn't describe her,

No one could.

His mother continued to darn his socks and made no comment.

Only William,

His younger brother,

Showed interest.

How is she different from anyone else?

He demanded.

Robert turned on him with exasperation.

Oh go and play at trains,

He said.

A child like you can't understand anything.

William retired with dignity to the window and listened with interest unabated to the rest of the conversation.

Yes but who is she dear?

Said their mother.

Robert I can't think how you get these big holes in your heels.

Robert ran his hands wildly through his hair.

I've told you who she is mother,

He said.

I've been talking about her ever since I came into the room.

Yes I know dear but you haven't mentioned her name or anything about her.

Well Robert spoke with an air of superhuman patience.

She's Miss Cannon and she's staying with the Clives and I met her out with Mrs Clive this morning and she introduced me and she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and she.

.

.

Yes said Mrs Brown hastily.

You told me all that.

Well went on the infatuated Robert.

We must have her to tea.

I know I can't marry yet,

Not while I'm still at college but I could get to know her.

Not that I suppose she'd look at me.

She's miles above me,

Miles above anyone.

She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.

You can't imagine her.

You wouldn't believe me if I described her.

No one could describe her.

She.

.

.

Mrs Brown interrupted him again with haste.

I'll ask Mrs Clive to bring her over one afternoon.

I've no more of this blue wool Robert.

I wish you didn't have your socks such different colours.

I shall have to use mauve.

It's right on the heel.

It won't show.

Robert gave a gasp of horror.

You can't mother.

How do you know it won't show?

And even if it didn't show,

The thought of it,

It's.

.

.

It's a crisis of my life now I've met her.

I can't go about feeling ridiculous.

I say,

Said William,

Open-mouthed,

Are you spoony on her?

William,

Don't use such vulgar expressions,

Said Mrs Brown.

Robert just feels a friendly interest in her,

Don't you Robert?

A friendly interest,

Groaned Robert in despair.

No one ever tries to understand what I feel.

After all I've told you about her and that she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and miles above me and above anyone and you think I feel a friendly interest in her.

It's the one great passion of my life.

It's.

.

.

Well,

Put in Mrs Brown mildly,

I'll ring up Mrs Clive and ask if she's doing anything tomorrow afternoon.

Robert's tragic young face lit up,

Then he stood wrapped in thought and a cloud of anxiety overcast it.

Ellen can press the trousers of my brown suit tonight,

Can't she?

And mother,

Could you get me some socks and a tie before tomorrow?

Blue I think,

A bright blue you know,

You know,

Not too bright but not so you don't notice them.

I wish the laundry was a decent one.

You know a man's collar ought to shine when it's new on.

They never put a shine on them.

I'd better have some new ones for tomorrow.

It's so important how one looks.

She.

.

.

People judge you on how you look.

They.

.

.

Mrs Brown laid her work aside.

I'll go and ring Mrs Clive now,

She said.

When she returned,

William had gone and Robert was standing by the window,

His face pale with suspense and a Napoleonic frown on his brow.

Mrs Clive can't come,

Announced Mrs Brown in her comfortable voice,

But Miss Cannon will come alone.

It appears she's met Ethel before,

So you needn't worry anymore,

Dear.

Robert gave a sardonic laugh.

Worry,

He said,

There's plenty to worry about still.

What about William?

Well,

What about him?

Oh,

Can't he go away somewhere tomorrow?

Things never go right when William's there,

You know they don't.

The poor boy must have his tea with us,

Dear.

He'll be very good,

I'm sure.

Ethel will be home then and she'll help.

I'll tell William not to worry you.

I'm sure he'll be good.

William received specific instructions.

He was not to come into the house till the tea bell rang and he was to go out and play in the garden again directly after tea.

He was perfectly willing to obey them.

He was thrilled by the thought of Robert in the role of the love-lorn hero.

He took the situation quite seriously.

He was in the garden when the visitor came up the drive.

He'd been told not to obtrude himself upon her notice,

So he crept up silently and peered at her through the rhododendron bushes.

Miss Cannon was certainly pretty.

She had brown hair,

Brown eyes and dimples that came and went in her rosy cheeks.

She was dressed in white and carried a parasol.

She walked up the drive looking neither to right nor left until a slight movement in the bushes arrested her attention.

She turned quickly and saw a small boy's face smeared with burnt cork and framed in hen's feathers tied on with tape.

The dimples peeped out.

Hail,

Oh great chief,

She said.

William gazed at her open-mouthed.

Such intelligence on the part of a grown-up was unusual.

Chief Red Hand,

He supplied with a fierce scowl.

She bowed low,

Brown eyes alight with merriment.

You'd better come quiet to my teepee,

Said Red Hand.

She threw a glance to the bend in the drive behind which lay the house and with a low laugh followed him through the bushes.

From one point the drawing room window could be seen and there the anxious Robert stood,

Pale with anxiety,

Stiff and upright in his newly creased trousers,

Well turned up to show the new blue socks.

His soulful eyes fixed steadfastly on the bend in the drive around which the beloved should come.

Every now and then his nervous hand wandered up to touch the new tie and gleaming new collar,

Which was rather too high and too tight for comfort,

But which the shopkeeper had informed his harassed customer was the latest and most correct shape.

Meanwhile the beloved had reached William's dugout.

William had made this himself of branches cut down from the trees and he spent many happy hours in it with one or other of his friends.

Here is the teepee,

He said in a sepulchral voice.

Stand here while I decide with Snake Face and the other chiefs what's going to happen to you.

There's Snake Face and the others,

He added,

Pointing to a small cluster of shrubs.

Approaching these he stood and talked fiercely and unintelligibly for a few minutes,

Turning his scowling corked face and pointing his finger at her every now and then,

As apparently he described his capture.

Then he approached her again.

Me and the others say that you'll cook for us.

Miss Cannon dropped onto her knees.

Most humble and grateful thanks great Red Hand,

She said.

I've got a fire round there,

Said William proudly,

Leading her to the back of the teepee where a small wood fire smouldered spiritlessly,

Choked by a large tin full of a dark liquid.

Oh how lovely,

Said Miss Cannon.

I'll get you some feathers,

Said Red Hand,

Obligingly.

You ought to have feathers too.

He retired into the depth of the teepee and returned with a handful of hen feathers.

Miss Cannon took off her big shady hat and stuck the feathers into her fluffy brown hair with a laugh.

This is jolly,

She said.

I've got some cork you can have to do your face too,

Went on William with reckless generosity.

It soon burns in the fire.

Miss Cannon threw a glance towards the chimneys of the house that could be seen through the trees and shook her pretty head regretfully.

I'm afraid I'd better not,

She said,

Silently.

She turned to look at the chimney and said,

I'm afraid I can't,

Sadly.

Well,

Said William,

Now I'll go hunting.

You watch me track.

He opened his penknife with a flourish and,

Casting glances all around him,

Crept on his hands and knees into the bushes.

He circled about,

Well within Miss Cannon's vision,

Obviously bent on in the tin with a twig and threw him every now and then the admiring glances he so evidently desired.

Soon he returned,

Carrying over his shoulder a doormat which he threw down at her feet.

A venison,

He said in a lordly voice.

Let it be cooked.

I've had it out all morning,

He added in his ordinary tones.

They've not missed it yet.

He fetched from the teepee two small jagged tins and,

Taking the larger tin off the fire,

Poured some into each.

Now,

He said,

It's jolly good,

I can tell you.

He picked up the paper cover of a packet of soup from behind the trees.

It's just that soup and water and it's jolly good.

How lovely!

Do they let you?

They don't let me,

He broke in hastily,

But there's heaps in the larder and they don't notice one every now and then.

Go on,

Encouragingly,

I don't mind you having it.

Honest,

I don't.

I'll get some more soon.

Bravely,

She raised the tin to her lips and took a sip.

Gorgeous,

She said,

Shutting her eyes.

Then she drained the tin.

William's face shone with pride and happiness,

But it clouded over as the sound of a bell rang out from the house.

Crumbs,

That's tea.

Hastily,

Miss Cannon took the feathers from her hair and put on her hat.

You don't keep a looking glass in your teepee,

I suppose,

She said.

No,

Admitted William.

I'll get one for next time you come.

I'll get one from Ethel's room.

Won't she mind?

She won't know,

Said William,

Simply.

Miss Cannon smoothed down her dress.

I'm horribly late.

What will they think of me?

It was awful of me to come with you.

I'm always doing awful things.

That's a secret between you and me.

She gave William a smile that dazzled him.

Now come in and we'll confess.

I can't,

Said William.

I've got to wash and come down tidy.

I promised I would.

It's a special day because of Robert,

You know.

Well,

You know,

Because of because of Robert.

He looked up at her mystified face and gave a significant nod.

Robert was frantic.

He had run his hands through his hair so often that it stood around his head like a spike tailor.

We can't begin without her,

He said.

She'll think we're awful.

It will put her off me forever.

She's not used to being treated like that.

She's the sort of girl people don't begin without.

She's the most beautiful girl I've ever met in all my life.

And you,

My own mother,

Treat her like this.

You may be ruining my life.

You've no idea what this means to me.

If you'd seen her,

You'd feel more sympathy.

I simply can't describe her.

I said four o'clock,

Robert,

Said Mrs Brown firmly.

And it's after half past.

Ethel,

Tell Emma she can ring the bell and bring in tea.

The perspiration stood out on Robert's brow.

It's the downfall of all my hopes,

He said hoarsely.

Then a few minutes after the echoes of the tea bell died away,

The front door bell rang sharply.

Robert stroked his hair down with wild unrestrained movements of his hands and summoned a tortured smile to his lips.

Miss Cannon appeared upon the threshold,

Bewitching and demure.

Aren't I perfectly disgraceful,

She said with her low laugh.

To tell the truth,

I met your little boy in the drive and I've been with him some time.

He's a perfect little dear,

Isn't he?

Her brown eyes rested on Robert.

Robert moistened his lips and smiled the tortured smile,

But was beyond speech.

Yes,

I know,

Ethel and I met your son yesterday,

Wasn't it?

Robert murmured unintelligibly,

Raising one hand to the too tight collar and then bowed vaguely in her direction.

Then they went into tea.

William,

His hair well brushed,

The cork partially washed from his face and the feathers removed,

Arrived a few minutes later.

Conversation was carried on chiefly by Miss Cannon and Ethel.

Robert racked his brain for some striking remark,

Something that would raise him in her esteem far above the ranks of the ordinary young man,

But nothing came.

Whenever her brown eyes rested on him,

However,

He summoned the mirthless smile to his lips and raised a hand to relieve the strain of the imprisoning collar.

Desperately,

He felt the precious moments passing and his passion as yet unrevealed,

Except by his eyes,

Whose message he was afraid she had not read.

As they rose from the tea,

William turned to his mother with an anxious,

Sibilant whisper.

Ought I to have put on my best suit too?

The demure lights danced in Miss Cannon's eyes and the look the perspiring Robert sent him would have crushed a less bold spirit.

William had quite forgotten the orders he'd received to retire from the scene directly after tea,

And he was now impervious to all hints.

He followed in the train of the all-conquering Miss Cannon to the drawing room and sat on the sofa with Robert,

Who had taken his seat next to his beloved.

Are you fond of reading,

Miss Cannon?

Began Robert with a painful effort.

I wrote a tale once,

Said William boastfully,

Leaning over Robert before she could answer.

It was a jolly good one.

I showed it to some people.

I'll show it to you if you like.

It began with a pirate on a raft and he stole some jewellery and the king the jewels belonged to was coming after him on a steamer and just when he was coming up to him he jumped into the water and took the jewels with him and a fish ate the jewels and the king caught it and he paused for a breath.

I'd love to read that,

Said Miss Cannon.

Robert turned sideways and resting an arm on his knee to exclude the persistent William spoke in a husky voice.

What is your favourite flower,

Miss Cannon?

William's small head craned around Robert's arm.

I've got a garden.

I've got Virginia stock grown all over it.

It grows in no time and mustard and cress grows in no time too.

I like things what grow quick,

Don't you?

You get tired of waiting for the other sorts,

Don't you?

Robert rose desperately.

Would you care to see the garden and greenhouses,

Miss Cannon,

He said.

I'd love to,

Said Miss Cannon.

With a threatening glare at William,

Robert led the way to the garden and William,

All innocent animation,

Followed.

Can you tie knots what can't come untied,

He demanded.

No,

She said.

I wish I could.

I can.

I'll show you.

I'll get a piece of string and show you afterwards.

It's easy but it wants practice,

That's all.

And I'll teach you how to make aeroplanes out of paper,

What fly in the air when it's windy.

That's quite easy.

Only you've got to be careful to get them the right size.

I can make those and I can make lots of things out of match boxes and things.

And the infuriated Robert interrupted.

These are my father's roses.

He's very proud of them.

Well,

They're beautiful.

Well,

Wait till you see my Virginia stock,

That's all.

Wait,

Will you have this tea rose,

Miss Cannon?

Robert's face was purple as he presented it.

It suits you.

Flowers and you,

That is,

I'm sure you love flowers.

You should you should always have flowers if I.

.

.

And I'll get you those red ones and that white one,

Broke in the equally infatuated William,

Determined not to be outshone.

And I'll get you some of my Virginia stock and I don't give my Virginia stock to anyone,

He added with emphasis.

When they re-entered the drawing room,

Miss Cannon carried a large bouquet of Virginia stock and white and red roses,

Which completely hid Robert's tea rose.

William was by her side,

Chatting airily and confidently.

Robert followed a pale statue of despair.

In answer to Robert's agonised glance,

Mrs Brown summoned William to her corner,

While Robert and Miss Cannon took their seat again upon the sofa.

I hope,

I hope,

Said Robert soulfully,

That your stay here is a long one.

Well,

Why shan't I just go and speak to her?

William's whisper was loud and indignant.

Shush dear,

Said Mrs Brown.

I should like to show you some of the walks around here,

Went on Robert,

Desperately,

With a fearful glance towards the corner,

Where William stood in righteous indignation before his mother.

If I could have that pleasure,

That honour.

I was only just speaking to her,

Went on William's whisper.

I wasn't doing any harm,

Was I?

Only speaking to her.

The silence was intense.

Robert,

Purple again,

Opened his lips to say something,

Anything,

To drown that horrible voice,

But nothing would come.

Miss Cannon was obviously listening to William.

Is no one else ever allowed to speak to her?

The sibilant whisper raised an indignant appeal,

Filled the whole room.

Just because Robert fell in love with her?

The horror of that moment haunted Robert's nights and days for weeks to come.

Mrs Brown coughed hastily and began to describe at unnecessary length the ravages of the caterpillars upon her husband's favourite rose tree.

William withdrew with dignity to the garden a minute later and Miss Cannon rose from the sofa.

I must be going,

I'm afraid,

She said with a smile.

Robert,

Anguished and overpowered,

Robert,

Anguished and overpowered,

Rose slowly.

You must come again sometime,

He said weakly,

But with passion undaunted.

I will,

She said.

I'm longing to see more of William.

I adore William.

They comforted Robert's wounded feelings as best they could,

But it was Ethel who devised the plan that finally cheered him.

She suggested a picnic on the following Thursday,

Which happened to be Robert's birthday and incidentally the last day of Miss Cannon's visit,

And the picnic party was to consist of Robert,

Ethel,

Mrs Clive and Miss Cannon and William was not even to be told where it was to be.

The invitation was sent that evening and Robert spent the week dreaming of picnic lunches and suggesting impossible dainties of which the cook had never heard.

It wasn't until she threatened to give her notice that he reluctantly agreed to leave the arrangements to her.

He sent his white flannels,

Which were perfectly clean,

To the laundry with a note attached hinting darkly at legal proceedings if they were not sent back spotless by Thursday morning.

He went about with an expression of set and solemn purpose upon his frowning countenance.

William he utterly ignored.

He bought a book of poems at a second-hand bookshop and kept them on the table by his bed.

They saw nothing of Miss Cannon in the interval but Thursday dawned bright and clear and Robert's anxious spirits rose.

He was presented with a watch and chain by his father and with a bicycle by his mother and a tin of toffee given not without ulterior motive by William.

They met Mrs Clive and Miss Cannon at the station and took tickets to a village a few miles away whence they had decided to walk to a shady spot on the riverbank.

William's dignity was slightly offended by his pointed exclusion from the party but he'd resigned himself to it and spent the first part of the morning among the rhododendron bushes.

He had added an ostrich feather found in Ethel's room to his headdress and used almost a whole cork on his face.

He wore the doormat pinned to his shoulders.

After melting some treacle toffee in rainwater over his smoking fire,

Adding orange juice and drinking the resulting liquid,

He tired of the game and wandered upstairs to Robert's bedroom to inspect his birthday presents.

The tin of toffee was on the table by Robert's bed.

William took one or two as a matter of course and began to read the love poems.

He was horrified a few minutes later to see the tin empty but he fastened the lid with a sigh,

Wondering if Robert would guess who had eaten them.

He was afraid he would.

Anyway he'd given him them and anyway he hadn't known he was eating them.

He then went to the dressing table and tried on the watch and chain at various angles and with various postures.

He finally resisted the temptation to wear them for the rest of the morning and replaced them on the dressing table.

Then he wandered downstairs and round to the shed where Robert's new bicycle stood in all its glory.

It was shining and spotless and William gazed at it in awe and admiration.

He came to the conclusion that he could do it no possible harm by leading it carefully round the house.

Encouraged by the fact that Mrs Brown was out shopping,

He walked it round the house several times.

He very much enjoyed the feeling of importance and possession that it gave him.

He felt loath to part with it.

He wondered if it was very hard to ride.

He had tried to ride one once when he was staying with an aunt.

He stood on a garden bench and with difficulty transferred himself from the bench to the bicycle seat.

To his surprise and delight,

He rode for a few yards before he fell off.

He tried again and fell off again.

He tried again and rode straight into a holly bush.

He forgot everything in his determination to master the art.

He tried again and again.

He fell off or rode into the holly bush again and again.

The shining black paint of the bicycle was scratched.

The handlebars were slightly bent and dulled.

William himself was bruised and battered but unbeaten.

At last he managed to avoid the fatal magnet of the holly bush to steer an unsteady zigzag course down the drive and out into the road.

He had no particular intention of riding into the road.

In fact,

He was still wearing his befeathered headgear and the mat pinned to his shoulders.

It was only when he was actually in the road that he realised that retreat was impossible and that he had no idea how to get off the bicycle.

What followed was to William more like a nightmare than anything else.

He saw a motor lorry coming towards him and in sudden panic turned down a side street and from that into another side street.

People came out of their houses to watch him pass.

Children booed or cheered him and ran after him in crowds.

And William went on and on simply because he couldn't stop.

His iron nerve had failed him.

He had not even the presence of mind to fall off.

He was quite lost.

He left the town behind him and didn't know where he was going.

But wherever he went he was the centre of attention.

The strange figure with a streaked face,

Mat flying behind in the wind and a headdress of feathers from which every now and then one floated away,

Brought the population to its doors.

Some said he had escaped from an asylum.

Some that he was an advertisement of something.

The children were inclined to think he was part of a circus.

William himself had passed beyond despair.

His face was white and set.

His first panic had changed to a dull certainty that this would go on forever.

He would never know how to stop.

He supposed he would go right across England.

He wondered if he were near the sea now.

He couldn't be that far off.

He wondered would he ever see his mother and father again.

And his feet pedalled mechanically along.

They didn't reach the pedals at their lowest point.

They had to catch them as they came up and send them down again with all their might.

It was very tiring.

William wondered if people would be sorry if he dropped down dead.

I have said that William did not know where he was going but fate knew.

The picnickers walked down the hill from the little station to the riverbank.

It was a beautiful morning.

Robert,

His heart and hopes high,

Walked beside his goddess,

Revelling in his nearness to her,

Though he could think of nothing to say to her.

But Ethel and Mrs Clive chatted gaily.

We've given William the slip,

Said Ethel with a laugh.

He's no idea where we've gone even.

I'm sorry,

Said Miss Cannon.

I'd have loved William to be here.

You don't know him.

Said Ethel fervently.

What a beautiful morning it is,

Murmured Robert,

Feeling that some remark was due from him.

Am I walking too fast for you,

Miss Cannon?

Oh no.

May I carry your parasol for you,

He inquired humbly.

Oh no thanks.

He proposed a boat on the river after lunch and it appeared that Miss Cannon would love it but Ethel and Mrs Clive would rather stay on the bank.

His cup of bliss was full.

It would be his opportunity of sealing lifelong friendship with her,

Of arranging a regular correspondence and hinting at his ultimate intentions.

He must tell her that of course while he was at college he was not in a position to offer his heart and hand but if she could wait,

He began to compose speeches in his mind.

They reached the bank and opened the luncheon baskets.

Unhampered by Robert,

The cook had surpassed herself.

They spread the white cloth and took up their position around it under the shade of the trees.

Just as Robert was taking up a plate of sandwiches to hand them with a courteous gesture to Miss Cannon,

His eyes fell upon the long white road leading from the village to the riverside and remained fixed there,

His face frozen with horror.

The hand that held the plate dropped lifelessly back again onto the tablecloth.

Their eyes followed his.

A curious figure was cycling along the road,

A figure with drooping feathers on its head and a doormat flying in the wind.

A crowd of small children ran behind cheering.

It was a figure vaguely familiar to them all.

It can't be,

Said Robert hoarsely,

Passing a hand over his brow.

No one spoke.

It came nearer and nearer.

There was no mistaking it.

William gasped four voices.

William came to the end of the road.

He didn't turn aside to either of the roads by the riverside.

He didn't even recognise or look at them.

With set colourless face,

He rode onto the riverbank and straight amongst them.

They fled before his charge.

He rode over the tablecloth,

Over the sandwiches,

Patties,

Rolls and cakes,

Down the bank and into the river.

They rescued him in the bicycle.

Fate was against Robert even there.

It was a passing boatman who performed the rescue.

William emerged,

Soaked to the skin,

Utterly exhausted,

But feeling vaguely heroic.

He was not in the least surprised to see them.

He would have been surprised at nothing.

And Robert wiped and examined his battered bicycle in impotent fury in the background,

While Miss Cannon pillowed William's dripping head on her arm,

Fed him on hot coffee and sandwiches and called him,

My poor darling red hand.

She insisted on going home with him.

All through the journey,

She sustained the character of his cook.

Then,

Leaving a casual invitation to Robert and Ethel to come over to tea,

She departed to pack.

Mrs Brown descended the stairs from William's room with a tray on which reposed a half-empty bowl of gruel and met Robert in the hall.

Robert,

She remonstrated,

You really needn't look so upset.

Robert glared at her and laughed a hollow laugh.

Upset,

He echoed,

Outraged by the inadequacy of the expression.

You'd be upset if your life was ruined.

You'd be upset.

I've a right to be upset.

He passed his hand desperately through his already ruffled hair.

You're going there to tea,

She reminded him.

Yes,

He said bitterly,

With other people.

Who can talk with other people there?

No one can.

I'd have talked to her on the river.

I've got heaps of things ready in my mind to say and William comes along and spoils my whole life and my bicycle and she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life and I've wanted that bicycle for ever so long and it's not fit to ride.

But poor William has caught a very bad chill,

Dear,

So you oughtn't feel bitter about him and he'll have to pay for your bicycle being mended.

He'll have no pocket money till it's paid for.

You'd think,

Said Robert with a despairing gesture in the direction of the hall table and apparently addressing it,

You'd think four grown-up people in a house could keep a boy of William's age in order,

Wouldn't you?

You'd think he wouldn't be allowed to go about spoiling people's lives and ruining their bicycles.

Well,

He jolly well won't do it again,

He ended darkly.

Mrs Brown proceeded in the direction of the kitchen.

Robert,

She said soothingly over her shoulder,

You surely want to be at peace with your little brother when he's not well,

Don't you?

Peace,

He said.

Robert turned his haggard countenance upon her as though his ears must have deceived him.

Peace?

I'll wait,

I'll wait till he's all right and going about.

I won't start till then,

But peace?

It's not peace,

It's an armistice,

That's all.

Reviews

Can’t wait to see what William gets up to next! Thanks Mandy 🙏🏻

Hello and thank you from Flagstaff, AZ in the USA. I love your story choices and the way you tell them. Thank you so very much!

Such a charming story, I was charmed to sleep before the end!

This is so funny, I laughed out loud at the mishap at the end! Thank you Mandy, I want to hear more!

That William, what a character! Such a fun story! Thank you, Mandy!