A thousand lies balanced a thousand denials; the pointer of
credulity swung toward the lies again; and so it swung and swung
with everything uncertain but the one fact which seemed, on this
day, perfectly plain--American effort had collapsed. America not
only had failed to aid her allies during the nine months since she
had entered the war; she seemed to have ceased even to care for
herself. Complete proof of this was that for five days now
industries had been shut down, offices were empty, furnaces cold.
Upon that particular Tuesday morning, the fifth day of this halt, a
girl named Ruth Alden awoke in an underheated room at an Ontario
Street boarding house--awoke, merely one of the millions of the
inconsiderable in Chicago as yet forbidden any extraordinary
transaction either to her credit or to her debit in the mighty
accounts of the world war. If it be true that tremendous fates
approaching cast their shadows before, she was unconscious of such
shadows as she arose that morning. To be sure, she reminded herself
when she was dressing that this was the day that Gerry Hull was
arriving home from France; and she thought about him a good deal;
but this was only as thousands of other romance-starved girls of
twenty-two or thereabouts, who also were getting up by gaslight in
underheated rooms at that January dawn, were thinking about Gerry
Hull. That was, Ruth would like, if she could, to welcome him home
to his own people and to thank him that day, in the name of his city
and of his country, for what he had done. But this was to her then
merely a wild, unrealizable fantasy.
What was actual and immediately before her was that Mr. Sam
Hilton--the younger of the Hilton brothers, for whom she was office
manager--had a real estate deal on at his office. He was to be there
at eight o’clock, whether the office was heated or not, and she also
was to be there to draw deeds and releases and so on; for someone
named Cady who was over draft age, but had himself accepted by an
engineer regiment, was sacrificing a fine factory property for a
quick sale and Sam Hilton, who was in class one but still hoped
somehow to avoid being called, was snapping up the bargain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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