"That's good news. But you mustn't blame them too severely. I mean those that really came over with a single purpose and were not proof against the forcing house of war. As for the others ... well, a good many followed their men over, others came after excitement, others, as you say, to do as they pleased, with no questions asked--possibly! I shouldn't take enough interest in them to criticize them if they hadn't used the war-relief organizations, from the Red Cross down to the smallest oeuvre, as a pretext to get over, and then calmly throw us down--the oeuvres, I mean. Mine was 'done' several times. But let us be good healthy optimists such as our country loves and remind ourselves that the worthy outnumber the unworthy--and that the really bad would have gone the same way sooner or later." "It goes. Optimism for me for ever more once I get out of France." II They had crossed the square and were walking down a narrow crooked street as gray as if the dust of ages were in its old walls. Alexina looked at him curiously. He had never had what might be called a soft and tender countenance, but now it looked like cast-iron covered with red rust, and his eyes were more like bits of the same metal, blackened and polished, than ever. His youth had gone. There were deep vertical lines in his face. His mouth was cynical. His bullet head, shaved until only a cap of black stiff hair remained on top, and presumably safe from assault, by no means added to the general attractiveness of his style. He was straighter, more compact, than before, however, and his uniform at least did not have the truly abominable cut of the private. "What do you think of war as war?" she asked. "Sherman for me. Not that I didn't enjoy sticking Germans with the best of 'em when my blood was up. But the rest of it--God Almighty!" They stopped before a solid double door in a high wall. "Will you come and take tea with me this afternoon? I am staying here for a few days. I'm afraid I can't offer you sugar, or cakes--" "I'll bring the sugar along. I'm in barracks just outside and solid with, the commissary." "Heavens, what a windfall! You'll be sure to come?" "Won't I, just? Expect me at four-thirty." He lifted his cap from his comical head, then sainted, swung on his heel and marched off, swinging both arms from the shoulders and looking a fine martial figure of a man. "But still the same old Kirkpatrick," thought Alexina. "I wonder if he will go Bolshevik?" III