What would happen next—God alone knew!... Also I hadn’t heard from Clark lately. He was kinda peeved when he left Paris and I was wondering whether our little affair weren’t just a brief romance after all. I’d certainly feel terrible if he decided to change his mind about me: he was the only one who knew about us, and if he went back on me now I’d feel ashamed the rest of my life. I mean, if I did get through safely—and I didn’t see how I could!—I really ought to marry him to keep his mouth shut about my ever having been in this man’s army. But I couldn’t make him marry me—after all, I was not a ruined woman or anything like that, and I really hadn’t any claim on him, except that I loved him a dreadful lot. That ought to be enough—provided he loved me. However, a fig for that till this mess was cleared up! * * * * * Homeward bound, on board the U.S.S. M——!—and I knew every hour that passed brought me nearer to my doom. I liked sea voyages, but I’d be damned if I could enjoy this one. Just like riding to the guillotine. I had a funny experience coming over. Happened to pass the sick bay and a fellow was lying there near the door so that I couldn’t miss seeing him. I caught him staring at me, and then he smiled. I couldn’t place him at first, but finally I did. It was that Lowery, the fellow with the toes that used to get Leon’s goat back in camp. I went in and spoke to him then. “What’s the matter with you?” I asked. “Got my foot smashed in a cave-in and they had to take it off,” he replied, much as if the whole thing were a matter of no importance. “You don’t look very sick over it,” I said with a smile. “Why the hell should I be sick over that?” he demanded with a laugh. “I’ve only got one set o’ toes to mind now!” And he reached down toward his good foot. “Honest to God, buddy, they itch like hell all the time!” I had to laugh. I was a regular pollyanna now. “There are advantages to all things, eh?” I observed, and I reached over and gave the disabled one’s toes a dozen or so violent rubbings, while he just lay back and stared at me in amazement. “My God!” he exclaimed. “I must be beaucoup zigzag!... Boy, war may be hell on some fellows, but it sure did you a hell of a lot of good!” I pinched his big toe and left him with a laugh. The big day was due to-morrow. I was desperate, and I evolved a desperate scheme. If it worked, I was saved. If it flopped, I was a stripped chicken.... Once again I started saying my prayers. There had to be some Omnipotent Power above who could spare a few moments in which to help me safely by that damned delousing plant! Might he take the time—I was a maiden in distress if there ever was one! —6—