That _would_ be selfish, Rada. You know it's Christmas Eve. Nobody ought to think of unpleasant things on Christmas Eve. What have you done with the Christmas-tree, Rada? BRANDER. And who's to blame? That's what I want to know. You don't blame _us_, do you? We didn't know where we were marching a month ago; and possibly we shall be fighting on your side against somebody else, a year hence. NANKO. Of course they didn't know! Poor soldiers don't. TARRASCH (_who has been trying the bedroom door_). In the meantime, what have you got behind that door? Give me the key. RADA (_hurriedly, and as if misunderstanding him, opens the cupboard. She speaks excitedly_). Food! Food! Food for hungry men. Food enough for a wolf pack. Come on. Help yourselves! TARRASCH. Look, Brander! What a larder! Here's a dinner for forty men. Isn't it? RADA. Better take your pick before the others come. (_She thrusts dishes into BRANDER'S hands and loads TARRASCH with bottles. They lay the table with them, RADA seeming to share their eagerness._) BRANDER (_looking at his hands_). Here! Bring me a basin of warm water. There are times when you can't touch food without washing your hands. (_RADA hesitates, then goes into the kitchen. BRANDER holds out a ring to TARRASCH._) Her husband's ring. I got it off his finger When he went down. He lay there, doubled up, With one of those hideous belly wounds. He begged, Horribly, for a bullet; so, poor devil, I put him out of his misery. I can't eat With hands like that. Ugh! Look! NANKO (_rising and peering at them_). Ah, but they're red. Red, aren't they? And there's red on your coat, too. (_He fingers it curiously._) I suppose that's blood, eh? People are such cowards. Many of them never seem to understand That man's a fighting animal. They're afraid, Dreadfully afraid, of the sight of blood. I think it's a beautiful colour, beautiful! You know, in the Old Testament, they used To splash it on the door-posts. BRANDER (_pushing him away_). Go and sit down, You crazy old devil! (_RADA enters with a bowl of water, sets it on a chair, and returns to the couch. BRANDER washes his hands._) TARRASCH. My hands want washing, too. My God, you've turned the water into wine. Get me some fresh. (_RADA approaches, stares at the bowl, and moves back, swaying a little._) BRANDER (_roughly_). I'll empty it. Give it to me. (_He goes out._) NANKO. The Old Testament, you know, is full of it. _Who is this_, it says, _that cometh from Edom, In dyed garments from Bozrah?_ It was blood That dyed their garments. And in _Revelation_ Blood came out of the wine-press, till it splashed The bridles of the horses; and the seas Were all turned into blood. Doesn't that show That man's a fighting animal?