So they met in a private dining room of the hotel for dinner on the eve of separation.
Brisson and Estridge had resurrected from their luggage the remains of their evening attire; Ilse and Palla had shopped; and they now included in a limited wardrobe two simple dinner gowns, among more vital purchases.
There were flowers on the table, no great variety of food but plenty of champagne to make upa singular innovation in apology for short rations conceived by the hotel proprietor.
There was a victrola in the corner, too, and this they kept going to stimulate their nerves, which already were sufficiently on edge without the added fillip of music and champagne.
As for me, said Brisson, Im in sight of nervous dissolution already;Im going back to my wife and children, thank God he smiled at Palla. Im grateful to the God you dont believe in, dear little lady. And if He is willing, Ill report for duty in two weeks. He turned to Estridge:
What about you?
Ive cabled for orders but I have none yet. If theyre through with me I shall go back to New York and back to the medical school I came from. I hate the idea, too. Lord, how I detest it!
Why? asked Palla nervously.
Ive had too much excitement. You have tooand so have Ilse and Brisson. Im not keen for the usual again. It bores me to contemplate it. The thought of Fifth Avenuethe very idea of going back to all that familiar routine, social and business, makes me positively ill. What a dull place this world will be when were all at peace again!
We wont be at peace for a long, long while, said Ilse, smiling. She lifted a goblet in her big, beautifully shaped hand and drained it with the vigorous grace of a Vikings daughter.
You think the war is going to last for years? asked Estridge.
Oh, no; not this war. But the other, she explained cheerfully.
What other?
Why, the greatest conflict in the world; the social war. Its going to take many years and many battles. I shall enlist.
Nonsense, said Brisson, youre not a Red!
The girl laughed and showed her snowy teeth: Im one kind of Rednot the kind that sold Russia to the bochebut Im very, very red.
Everybody with a brain and a heart is more or less red in these days, nodded Palla. Everybody knows that the old order is endeddone for. Without liberty and equal opportunity civilisation is a farce. Everybody knows it except the stupid. And theyll have to be instructed.
Very well, said Brisson briskly, heres to the universal but bloodless revolution! An acre for everybody and a mule to plough it! Back to the soil and to hell with the counting house!
They all laughed, but their brimming glasses went up; then Estridge rose to re-wind the victrola. Pallas slim foot tapped the parquet in time with the American fox-trot; she glanced across the table at Estridge, lifted her head interrogatively, then sprang up and slid into his arms, delighted.
While they danced he said: Better go light on that champagne, Miss Dumont.
Dont you think I can keep my head? she demanded derisively.
Not if you keep up with Ilse. Youre not built that way.
I wish I were. I wish I were nearly six feet tall and beautiful in every limb and feature as she is. What wonderful children she could have! What magnificent hair she must have had before she sheared it for the Womans Battalion! Now its all a dense, short mass of goldshe looks like a lovely boy who requires a barber.
Your hair is not unbecoming, either, he remarked, short as it is, its a mop of curls and very fetching.
Isnt it funny? she said. I sheared mine for the sake of Mother Church; Ilse cut off hers for the honour of the Army! Now were both out of a jobwith only our cropped heads to show for the experience!and no more army and no more churchat least, as far as I am concerned!
And she threw back hers with its thick, glossy curls and laughed, looking up at him out of her virginal brown eyes of a child.
Im sorry I cut my hair, she added presently. I look like a Bolshevik.
Its growing very fast, he said encouragingly.
Oh, yes, it grows fast, she nodded indifferently. Shall we return to the table? I am rather thirsty.
Ilse and Brisson were engaged in an animated conversation when they reseated themselves. The waiter arrived about that time with another course of poor food.
Palla, disregarding Estridges advice, permitted the waiter to refill her glass.
I cant eat that unappetising entrée, she insisted, and champagne, they say, is nourishing and Im still hungry.
As you please, said Brisson; but youve had two glasses already.
I dont care, she retorted childishly; I mean to live to the utmost in future. For the first time in my silly existence I intend to be natural. I wonder what it feels like to become a little intoxicated?
It feels rotten, remarked Estridge.
Really? How rotten? She laughed again, laid her hand on the goblets stem and glanced across at him defiantly, mischievously. However, she seemed to reconsider the matter, for she picked up a cigarette and lighted it at a candle.
Bah! she exclaimed with a wry face. It stings!
But she ventured another puff or two before placing it upon a saucer among its defunct fellows.
Ugh! she complained again with a gay little shiver, and bit into a pear as though to wash out the contamination of unaccustomed nicotine.
Where are you going when we all say good-bye? inquired Estridge.
I? Oh, Im certainly going home on the first Danish boathome to Shadow Hill, where I told you I lived.
And you have nobody but your aunt?
Only that one old lady.
You wont remain long at Shadow Hill, he predicted.
Its very pretty there. Why dont you think I am likely to remain?
You wont remain, he repeated. Youve slipped your cable. Youre hoisting sail. And it worries me a little.
The girl laughed. Its a pretty place, Shadow Hill, but its dull. Everybody in the town is dull, stupid, and perfectly satisfied: everybody owns at least that acre which Ilse demands; theres no discontent at Shadow Hill, and no reason for it. I really couldnt bear it, she added gaily; I want to go where theres healthy discontent, wholesome competition, natural aspirationwhere things must be bettered, set right, helped. You understand? That is where I wish to be.
Brisson heard her. Cant you practise your loving but godless creed at Shadow Hill? he inquired, amused. Cant you lavish love on the contented and well-to-do?
Yes, Mr. Brisson, she replied with sweet irony, but where the poor and loveless fight an ever losing battle is still a better place for me to practise my godless creed and my Law of Love.
Aha! he retorted, a brand new excuse for living in New York because all young girls love it!
Indeed, she said with some little heat, I certainly do intend to live and not to stagnate! I intend to live as hard as I canlive and enjoy life with all my might! Can one serve the world better than by loving it enough to live ones own life through to the last happy rags? Can one give ones fellow creatures a better example than to live every moment happily and proclaim the world good to live in, and mankind good to live with?
Ilse whispered, leaning near: Dont take any more champagne, Palla.