White bread!--I've only tasted it twice in
two years-both times at the Crillon. And candy--not a sight of it for more
than that. I don't like the heavy French chocolates, which were all one
could get when one could get anything. I shall eat at least half and take
the other half back to Gora."
"Miss Dwight? She's done good work, I'll bet. Just in her line. Somehow, I
don't see you--What did you do?"
He watched her hungrily as she made the tea, sitting in a gilt and brocaded
chair, whose high tarnished back seemed to frame her dark head.
"Oh, Lord!" he sighed.
"What is it?"
"Don't ask me. What've you been doing? Yes, I'll drink tea to please you."
"I nursed at first--as an auxiliary, of course--what is the matter?"
"Can't bear to think of it. I hope you've not been doin' that for four
years!"
"Oh, no. I've been at work with a war-relief organization in Paris most of
the time. That was too monotonous to talk about, and, thank heaven, this
will probably end my connection with it. I am much more interested to know
how the war has affected you. Are you still a socialist?"
"Ain't I!"
"Not going Bolshevik, I hope."
"Not so's you'd notice it. I want changes all right and more'n ever,
but I've had enough of blood and fury and mix-ups without copying them
murdering skally-wags. That's all they are. Just out for loot and revenge
and not sense enough to know that to-morrow there'll be no loot, and
revenge'll come from the opposite direction.
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