“You haven’t hurt me as me,” he denied. “If you just told me that my country believed I was wrong and had been fighting for something lower than it was willing to fight for until April, 1917, why that would be all right. But what you have said is against the finest, noblest, most chivalrous men the world ever knew—a good many of them dead, now, fallen on the field of honor, Americans—Americans of the highest heart, Norman Prince, Kiffen Rockwell, Vic Chapman, and the rest! If being American means to wait, after you see beasts like the Germans murdering women and children, until you’ve satisfied your smug soul that everyone who’s fighting the beast is just your sort, they weren’t Americans and I’m not an American either, thank God!”
He arose from beside her in his overwhelming emotion; and she, without knowing what she did, put out a hand, and caught his sleeve, and pulled him down beside her again.
“Wait!” she almost commanded him. “I can’t have you misunderstand me so! This morning when I woke up—it was before I knew I was to meet you—I tried to imagine knowing you!”
“To tell me what you have?”
“To thank you for what you have done!”
“You’re a strange person!”
“Oh, I can’t explain everything even to myself!” Ruth cried. “I only know that you—and the men you’ve mentioned—had the wonderful right to do, of yourselves, fine and brave things before our country had the right!”
That was sheer stupidity to him, she saw; and she could not make it clearer. He wanted to leave her now; but he did not forget himself as he had the moment earlier. He waited for her to rise and he accompanied her to the other rooms. They separated without formal leave-taking as others claimed him, and Hubert Lennon found her. Hubert and his aunt took her back to the hotel, where Aunt Emilie—Ruth yet had no name for her—offered an invitation for luncheon tomorrow or the day after. Ruth accepted for the second day and went up to her room, where she locked herself in, took off the yellow dress, and flung herself face downward across the bed.
Except for the chocolate and little cakes served at Mrs. Corliss’, she had eaten nothing since breakfast; but she scarcely thought to be hungry or considered her weariness now. What a day had been given to her; and how frightfully she had bungled it! She had met Gerry Hull, and he had found interest in her, and she had taken advantage of his interest only to offend, and insult him, and turn him away! The Germans, upon whose support she must depend in all her plans, had given her a first definite order; and she had completely disregarded it in her absorption in offending Gerry Hull. At any moment, therefore, they might take action against her—either direct action of their own, or give information which would expose her to the American authorities, and bring about her arrest and disgrace. A miserable end, now, not only to her great resolves of that morning, but to any possible rehabilitation with Gerry Hull! For if that morning she had dreamed of meeting him, now this night a thousand times intensified she thought of him again and again—constantly, it seemed. And yet she would not have taken back a word of that which had angered him and turned him away.
She got up at last and went down alone to dinner; and, when nothing more happened, she returned to her own room, where after more carefully going over all Cynthia Gail’s things, she took plain paper and an envelope and wrote a short note to Sam Hilton, informing him that most important personal matters suddenly had forced her to give up her position with him; she wrote the landlady at her boarding house that she had been called home and would either return or send for her trunk later. She mailed these herself and went to bed.