“Same to you,” said Aaron, and they all peered over their glasses and quite loved one another for a rosy minute.
“I should like to know, though,” said the hollow-cheeked young Major with the black flap over his eye, “whether you do really mean you are all right—that it is all right with you—or whether you only say so to get away from the responsibility.”
“I mean I don't really care—I don't a damn—let the devil take it all.”
“The devil doesn't want it, either,” said the Major.
“Then let him leave it. I don't care one single little curse about it all.”
“Be damned. What is there to care about?” said the Colonel.
“Ay, what?” said Aaron.
“It's all the same, whether you care or don't care. So I say it's much easier not to care,” said Arthur.
“Of course it is,” said the Colonel gaily.
“And I think so, too,” said Aaron.