"It is not our war."

"Humanity," said Mrs. Gregory, remembering the phrase she had written

for a speech--"humanity has no nationality. It is of all men, for

all men."

"That's men. Not women!"

He got up and stood on the hearthrug. He was singularly reminiscent of

the time he had stood on Aunt Harriet's white fur rug and had told Sara

Lee she could not go.

"Now see here, Mrs. Gregory," he said, "we'll stop beating about the

bush, if you don't mind. She's got to come home. She's coming, if I

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have to go and get her!"

"You needn't look at me so fiercely. I didn't send her. It was her own

idea."

Harvey sneered.

"No," he said slowly. "But I notice your society publishes her reports

in the papers, and that the names of the officers are rarely missing."

Mrs. Gregory colored.

"We must have publicity to get money," she said. "It is hard to get.

Sometimes I have had to make up the deficit out of my own pocket."

"Then for God's sake bring her home! If the thing has to go on, send

over there some of the middle-aged women who have no ties. Let 'em get

shot if they want to. They can write as good reports as she can, if

that's all you want. And make as good soup," he added bitterly.

"It could be done, of course," she said, thoughtfully. "But--I must

tell you this: I doubt if an older woman could have got where she has.

There is no doubt that her charm, her youth and beauty have helped her

greatly. We cannot--"

The very whites of his eyes turned red then. He shouted furiously that

for their silly work and their love of publicity, they were trading on

a girl's youth and beauty; that if anything happened to her he would

publish the truth in every newspaper in the country; that they would at

once recall Sara Lee or he would placard the city with what they were

doing. These were only a few of the things he threw at her.

When he was out of breath he jerked the picture of the little house of

mercy out of his pocket and flung it into her lap.

"There!" he said. "Do you know where that house is? It's in a ruined

village. She hasn't said that, has she? Well, look at the masonry

there. That's a shell hole in the street. That soldier's got a gun.

Why? Because the Germans may march up that street any day on their way

to Calais."