"Indeed that's true," replied Carley. "It's a hard time for everybody,
and particularly you boys who have lost so--so much."
"I lost all, except my life--and I wish to God I'd lost that," he
replied, gloomily.
"Oh, don't talk so!" implored Carley in distress. "Forgive me, Rust, if
I hurt you. But I must tell you--that--that Glenn wrote me--you'd lost
your girl. Oh, I'm sorry! It is dreadful for you now. But if you got
well--and went to work--and took up life where you left it--why soon
your pain would grow easier. And you'd find some happiness yet."
"Never for me in this world."
"But why, Rust, why? You're no--no--Oh! I mean you have intelligence and
courage. Why isn't there anything left for you?"
"Because something here's been killed," he replied, and put his hand to
his heart.
"Your faith? Your love of--of everything? Did the war kill it?"
"I'd gotten over that, maybe," he said, drearily, with his somber eyes
on space that seemed lettered for him. "But she half murdered it--and
they did the rest."
"They? Whom do you mean, Rust?"
"Why, Carley, I mean the people I lost my leg for!" he replied, with
terrible softness.
"The British? The French?" she queried, in bewilderment.
"No!" he cried, and turned his face to the wall.
Carley dared not ask him more. She was shocked. How helplessly impotent
all her earnest sympathy! No longer could she feel an impersonal,
however kindly, interest in this man. His last ringing word had linked
her also to his misfortune and his suffering. Suddenly he turned away
from the wall. She saw him swallow laboriously. How tragic that thin,
shadowed face of agony! Carley saw it differently. But for the beautiful
softness of light in his eyes, she would have been unable to endure
gazing longer.
"Carley, I'm bitter," he said, "but I'm not rancorous and callous, like
some of the boys. I know if you'd been my girl you'd have stuck to me."
"Yes," Carley whispered.
"That makes a difference," he went on, with a sad smile. "You see, we
soldiers all had feelings. And in one thing we all felt alike. That was
we were going to fight for our homes and our women. I should say women
first. No matter what we read or heard about standing by our allies,
fighting for liberty or civilization, the truth was we all felt the
same, even if we never breathed it.... Glenn fought for you. I fought
for Nell.... We were not going to let the Huns treat you as they treated
French and Belgian girls.... And think! Nell was engaged to me--she
loved me--and, by God! She married a slacker when I lay half dead on the
battlefield!"