good any more--I am not a humbug; I have
learned to be bad. Aren't you going to kees me, ni-ice boy?

She puts her face close to his. Her eyes trouble him; he draws back.

YOUNG OFF. Don't. I'd rather not, if you don't mind. [She looks at
him fixedly, with a curious inquiring stare] It's stupid. I don't
know--but you see, out there, and in hospital, life's different.
It's--it's--it isn't mean, you know. Don't come too close.

GIRL. Oh! You are fun----[She stops] Eesn't it light. No Zeps
to-night. When they burn--what a 'orrble death! And all the people
cheer. It is natural. Do you hate us veree much?

YOUNG OFF. [Turning sharply] Hate? I don't know.

GIRL. I don't hate even the English--I despise them. I despise my
people too; even more, because they began this war. Oh! I know that.
I despise all the peoples. Why haf they made the world so miserable
--why haf they killed all our lives--hundreds and thousands and
millions of lives--all for noting? They haf made a bad world--
everybody hating, and looking for the worst everywhere. They haf
made me bad, I know. I believe no more in anything. What is there
to believe in? Is there a God? No! Once I was teaching little
English children their prayers--isn't that funnee? I was reading to
them about Christ and love. I believed all those things. Now I
believe noting at all--no one who is not a fool or a liar can
believe. I would like to work in a 'ospital; I would like to go and
'elp poor boys like you. Because I am a German they would throw me
out a 'undred times, even if I was good. It is the same in Germany,
in France, in Russia, everywhere. But do you think I will believe in
Love and Christ and God and all that--Not I! I think we are animals
--that's all! Oh, yes! you fancy it is because my life has spoiled
me. It is not that at all--that is not the worst thing in life. The
men I take are not ni-ice, like you, but it's their nature; and--they
help me to live, which is something for me, anyway. No, it is the
men who think themselves great and good and make the war with their
talk and their hate, killing us all--killing all the boys like you,
and keeping poor People in prison, and telling us to go on hating;
and all these dreadful cold-blood creatures who write in the papers
--the same in my country--just the same; it is because of all of them
that I think we are only animals.

[The YOUNG OFFICER gets up, acutely miserable.