Yes. War is full of ironies. I see that: Wallace can’t. It’s so full of mixed motives, good and bad. Yes. I’ll grant all that. Only America has gone in. The whole tide was against us, dear. It is sweeping over the world: a brown tide of khaki sweeping everything before it. All my life I’ve fought against the current. (_Wearily_) And now that I’ve gone in, too, my arms seem less tired. Yes; and except for the pain I’ve caused you, I’ve never in all my life felt so--so happy. (_Then she understands. She slowly turns to him, with tenderness in her eyes._) HILDA Oh, now, Will, I do understand. Now I see the real reason for what you’ve done. WHITE (_Defensively_) I’ve given the real reason. HILDA (_Her heart going out to him_) You poor tired man. My dear one. Forgive me, if I made it difficult for you; if I said cruel words. I ought to have guessed; ought to have seen what life has done to you. (_He looks up, not understanding her words._) Those hands of yours first dug a living out of the ground. Then they built houses and grew strong because you were a workman--a man of the people. You saw injustice and all your life you fought against those who had the power to inflict it: the press; the comfortable respectables, like my brother; and even those of your own group who opposed you--you fought them all. And they look at you as an outsider, an alien in your own country. Oh, Will, I know how hard it has been for you to be always on the defensive, against the majority. It is hard to live alone away from the herd. It does tire one to the bone and make one envious of the comfort and security they find by being together. WHITE Yes ... but.... HILDA Now the war comes and with it a chance to get back; to be part of the majority; to be welcomed with open arms by those who have fought you; to go back with honor and praise. And, yes, to have the warmth and comfort of the crowd. That’s the real reason you’re going in. You’re tired and worn out with the fight. I know. I understand now. WHITE (_Earnestly_) If I thought it was that, I’d kill myself. HILDA There’s been enough killing already. I have to understand it somehow to accept it at all. (_He stares at her, wondering at her words. She smiles. He goes to a chair and sits down, gazing before him. The music of “Over There” is now heard outside in the street, approaching nearer and nearer. It is a military band._ WALLACE _excitedly rushes in dressed in khaki_.) WALLACE Mother, mother. The boys are coming down the street. (_Sees father._) Dad! Mother has told you? HILDA (_Calmly_) Yes; I’ve told him. WALLACE And you’re going to let me go, Dad? HILDA Yes. WALLACE