the Great War. Evening.

An empty room. The curtains drawn and gas turned low. The
furniture and walls give a colour-impression as of greens and
beetroot. There is a prevalence of plush. A fireplace on the
Left, a sofa, a small table; the curtained window is at the
back. On the table, in a common pot, stands a little plant of
maidenhair fern, fresh and green.

Enter from the door on the Right, a GIRL and a YOUNG OFFICER in
khaki. The GIRL wears a discreet dark dress, hat, and veil, and
stained yellow gloves. The YOUNG OFFICER is tall, with a fresh
open face, and kindly eager blue eyes; he is a little lame. The
GIRL, who is evidently at home, moves towards the gas jet to
turn it up, then changes her mind, and going to the curtains,
draws them apart and throws up the window. Bright moonlight
comes flooding in. Outside are seen the trees of a little
Square. She stands gazing out, suddenly turns inward with a
shiver.

YOUNG OFF. I say; what's the matter? You were crying when I spoke
to you.

GIRL. [With a movement of recovery] Oh! nothing. The beautiful
evening-that's all.

YOUNG OFF. [Looking at her] Cheer up!

GIRL. [Taking of hat and veil; her hair is yellowish and crinkly]
Cheer up! You are not lonelee, like me.

YOUNG OFF. [Limping to the window--doubtfully] I say, how did you
how did you get into this? Isn't it an awfully hopeless sort of
life?

GIRL. Yees, it ees. You haf been wounded?

YOUNG OFF. Just out of hospital to-day.

GIRL. The horrible war--all the misery is because of the war. When
will it end?

YOUNG OFF. [Leaning against the window-sill, looking at her
attentively] I say, what nationality are you?

GIRL. [With a quick look and away] Rooshian.

YOUNG OFF. Really! I never met a Russian girl. [The GIRL gives him
another quick look] I say, is it as bad as they make out?

GIRL. [Slipping her hand through his arm] Not when I haf anyone as
ni-ice as you; I never haf had, though. [She smiles, and her smile,
like her speech, is slow and confining] You stopped because I was
sad, others stop because I am gay. I am not fond of men at all.
When you know--you are not fond of them.

YOUNG OFF. Well, you hardly know them at their best, do you? You
should see them in the trenches. By George! They're simply
splendid--officers and men, every blessed soul. There's never be