Her father laughed. “Scarcely, Maddie,” he said. “The privates have their custom-made by the mile and cut off in chunks for the individual. That was about it, wasn't it, Speranza?”
“Just about, sir.”
Mrs. Fosdick evidently thought that the conversation was taking a rather low tone. She elevated it by asking what his thoughts were when taken prisoner by the Germans. He looked puzzled.
“Thoughts, Mrs. Fosdick?” he repeated. “I don't know that I understand, exactly. I was only partly conscious and in a good deal of pain and my thoughts were rather incoherent, I'm afraid.”
“But when you regained consciousness, you know. What were your thoughts then? Did you realize that you had made the great sacrifice for your country? Risked your life and forfeited your liberty and all that for the cause? Wasn't it a great satisfaction to feel that you had done that?”
Albert's laugh was hearty and unaffected. “Why, no,” he said. “I think what I was realizing most just then was that I had made a miserable mess of the whole business. Failed in doing what I set out to do and been taken prisoner besides. I remember thinking, when I was clear-headed enough to think anything, 'You fool, you spent months getting into this war, and then got yourself out of it in fifteen minutes.' And it WAS a silly trick, too.”
Madeline was horrified.
“What DO you mean?” she cried. “Your going back there to rescue your comrade a silly trick! The very thing that won you your Croix de Guerre?”
“Why, yes, in a way. I didn't save Mike, poor fellow—”
“Mike! Was his name Mike?”