LITMIR.BIZ

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it—just one long bit of jolly fine self-sacrifice; it's perfectly amazing."

      Turning her blue-grey eyes on him, she answered:

      "I expect you are not the last at that. You see in them what you haf in yourself, I think."

      "Oh! not a bit—you're quite out. I assure you when we made the attack where I got wounded, there wasn't a single man in my regiment who wasn't an absolute hero. The way they went in—never thinking of themselves—it was simply superb!"

      Her teeth came down on her lower lip, and she answered in a queer voice: "It is the same too perhaps with—the enemy."

      "Oh yes, I know that."

      "Ah! You are not a mean man. How I hate mean men!"

      "Oh! they're not mean really—they simply don't understand."

      "Oh! you are a baby—a good baby, aren't you?"

      He did not quite like being called a baby, and frowned; but was at once touched by the disconcertion in her powdered face. How quickly she was scared!

      She said clingingly:

      "But I li-ike you for it. It is so good to find a ni-ice man."

      This was worse, and he said abruptly:

      "About being lonely? Haven't you any Russian friends?"

      "Rooshian! No!" Then quickly added: "The town is so beeg! Haf you been in the concert?"

      "Yes."

      "I, too—I love music."

      "I suppose all Russians do."

      She looked up at his face again, and seemed to struggle to keep silent; then she said quietly:

      "I go there always when I haf the money."

      "What! Are you so on the rocks?"

      "Well, I haf just one shilling now." And she laughed.

      The sound of that little laugh upset him—she had a way of making him feel sorry for her every time she spoke.

      They had come by now to a narrow square, east of Gower Street.

      "This is where I lif," she said. "Come in!"

      He had one long moment of violent hesitation, then yielded to the soft tugging of her hand, and followed. The passage-hall was dimly lighted, and they went upstairs into a front room, where the curtains were drawn, and the gas turned very low. Opposite the window were other curtains dividing off the rest of the apartment. As soon as the door was shut she put up her face and kissed him—evidently formula. What a room! Its green and beetroot colouring and the prevalence of cheap plush disagreeably affected him. Everything in it had that callous look of rooms which seem to be saying to their occupants: "You're here to-day and you'll be gone to-morrow." Everything except one little plant, in a common pot, of maidenhair fern, fresh and green, looking as if it had been watered within the hour; in this room it had just the same unexpected touchingness that peeped out of the girl's matter-of-fact cynicism.

      Taking off her hat, she went towards the gas, but he said quickly:

      "No, don't turn it up; let's have the window open, and the moonlight in." He had a sudden dread of seeing anything plainly—it was stuffy, too, and pulling the curtains apart, he threw up the window. The girl had come obediently from the hearth, and sat down opposite him, leaning her arm on the window-sill and her chin on her hand. The moonlight caught her cheek where she had just renewed the powder, caught her fair crinkly hair; it caught the plush of the furniture, and his own khaki, giving them all a touch of unreality.

      "What's your name?" he said.

      "May. Well, I call myself that. It's no good askin' yours."

      "You're a distrustful little party, aren't you?"

      "I haf reason to be, don't you think?"

      "Yes, I suppose you're bound to think us all brutes?"

      "Well, I haf a lot of reasons to be afraid all my time. I am dreadfully nervous now; I am not trusting anybody. I suppose you haf been killing lots of Germans?"

      He laughed.

      "We never know, unless it happens to be hand to hand; I haven't come in for that yet."

      "But you would be very glad if you had killed some?"

      "Glad? I don't think so. We're all in the same boat, so far as that's concerned. We're not glad to kill each other. We do our job—that's all."

      "Oh! it is frightful. I expect I haf my broders killed."

      "Don't you get any news ever?"

      "News! No indeed, no news of anybody in my country. I might not haf a country; all that I ever knew is gone—fader, moder, sisters, broders, all—never any more I shall see them, I suppose, now. The war it breaks and breaks, it breaks hearts." Her little teeth fastened again on her lower lip in that sort of pretty snarl. "Do you know what I was thinkin' when you came up? I was thinkin' of my native town, and the river there in the moonlight. If I could see it again, I would be glad. Were you ever homeseeck?"

      "Yes, I have been—in the trenches; but one's ashamed, with all the others."

      "Ah! ye-es!" It came from her with a hiss. "Ye-es! You are all comrades there. What is it like for me here, do you think, where everybody hates and despises me, and would catch me, and put me in prison, perhaps?"

      He could see her breast heaving with a quick breathing painful to listen to. He leaned forward, patting her knee, and murmuring: "Sorry—sorry."

      She said in a smothered voice:

      "You are the first who has been kind to me for so long! I will tell you the truth—I am not Rooshian at all—I am German."

      Hearing that half-choked confession, his thought was: "Does she really think we fight against women?" And he said:

      "My dear girl, who cares?"

      Her eyes seemed to search right into him. She said slowly:

      "Another man said that to me. But he was thinkin' of other things. You are a veree ni-ice boy. I am so glad I met you. You see the good in people, don't you? That is the first thing in the world—because there is really not much good in people, you know."

      He said, smiling:

      "You're a dreadful little cynic!" Then thought: "Of course she is—poor thing!"

      "Cyneec? How long do you think I would live if I was not a cyneec? I should drown myself to-morrow. Perhaps there are good people, but, you see, I don't know them."

      "I know lots."

      She leaned forward eagerly.

      "Well now—see, ni-ice boy—you haf never been in a hole, haf you?"

      "I suppose not a real hole."

      "No, I should think not, with your face. Well, suppose I am still a good girl, as I was once, you know, and you took me to some of your good people, and said: 'Here is a little German girl that has no work, and no money, and no friends.' Your good people they will say: 'Oh! how sad! A German girl!' and they will go and wash their hands."

      Silence fell on him. He saw his mother, his sisters, others—good people, he would swear! And yet—! He heard their voices, frank and clear; and they seemed to be talking of the Germans. If only she were not German!

      "You see!" he heard her say, and could only mutter:

      "I'm sure there are people."

      "No. They would not take a German, even if she was good. Besides, I don't want to be good any more—I am not a humbug—I have learned to be bad. Aren't you going to kees me, ni-ice boy?"

      She put her face close to his. Her eyes troubled him, but he drew back. He thought she would be offended or persistent, but she was

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