Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/232

WAR "She cries like a baby."

"Anything more?"

"I kisses her."

"And—?"

"Intermission—arms all around."

"Well?"

"Well, then I says that I'm sorry about the other night, and that you were a brute."

"Proceed."

"She said she was sorry. That she thought she was killed. But not just yet."

"And, so—"

"I says I'm more sorry."

"And yet—"

"She says that she's more sorry and she can prove it."

"So?"

"I says she can't."

"Then she had you."

"She says, again, she can, and to remember it. Think of her when it happens."

"And you will, not?" 216