Only one sentence had related to the
scene in the hospital; but its brief, tragic summing up of the
situation had been sufficient. Carew had made no answer, save to
walk on for a few steps in silence, with his hand resting on the
shoulder of his friend.
That night, he wrote to Alice. The letter was long and full of
detail. It told what he knew, what he had inferred and what he
feared. It begged her, in the name of their own sacred happiness, to
help him win the same happiness for these two who, longing to come
together, were straying always farther apart; and it ended with the
words with which he had begun his talk with Weldon, that noon,--
"For God's sake, how long is this going to last?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Paddy waved his thumb disrespectfully towards the rear of the
column.
"And what can you expect of a man that goes to the wars in a fancy
petticoat, let alone a khaki apron to cover up the front of it?" he
demanded. "And look at the bare knees of 'em, for all the world like
knots in the branches of an oak-tree! They may be trained to believe
it's comfortable to walk round in public with their kneepans in
plain sight; but no man can ever make me think it's either beautiful
to the eye, or respectful in the presence of one's betters.
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