Charlie tried again, "You wear white collars and tailored clothes at
your work--I wear dirty overalls."
"We used to call 'em uniforms," barked John.
Captain Charlie hesitated a little before he offered his next fact, and
when he spoke it was with a little more feeling. "There are our
families to take into account too, John. Your sister--well--isn't it a
fact that your sister would no more think of calling on Mary than she
would think of putting on overalls and going to work in the Mill?"
It was John's turn now to hesitate.
"Don't you see?" continued Charlie, "we belong to different worlds, I
tell you, John."
Deliberately Helen's brother knocked the ashes from his pipe and
refilled it with thoughtful care.
Then he said, gravely, "Helen doesn't realize, as we do, old man. How
could she? The girl has not had a chance to learn what the war taught
us. She is exactly like thousands of other good women, and men, too,
for that matter. They simply don't understand. Good Lord!" he exploded,
suddenly "when I think what a worthless snob I was before I enlisted I
want to kick my fool self to death. But we are drifting away from the
main thought," he finished.
"Oh, I don't know," returned the other.
"I thought we were discussing the question of rank," said John.
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