"What?" said Peggy.
"I've just told Mr. Chambers that I won't marry him."
"Does he know it?"
"Well, not exactly, Peggy—that's his trouble—but he will know it. I'm—I'm through."
"I don't believe it," Peggy said.
"I do, and that's the principal thing," Ruth said. "I never realized how he felt about certain things before. I hadn't given much thought to his attitude about the war and all that. I knew he had been a sort of pacifist, and that he had German friends and business connections. I like men to be broad-minded. I don't mind a man that sticks to honest conclusions, if they're sincere, but when I find they are coloured by physical or moral cowardice, why, then I—I'm through. Albert Chambers is a coward, and he's a selfish coward. We've had it all out and I know."
"Hooray," said Peggy, "I could have told you that any time this summer."
"And I'm through with marriage or any idea of marriage, so there we are."
"I don't envy you the sweet task of breaking it to Mother."
"Haven't you got any feeling, Peggy? Don't you care how hard the things are I've been going through?"