“I feel that way.”
A group of ambulance drivers descended upon us, with their fragmentary chatter.
“Boat in had a close shave.”
“Missed a torpedo by twenty feet.”
“Come off! Every one’s seeing submarines!”
“Hope we pick one up.”
“Say, what’s the matter with this boat?”
“Off for the good old U. S. A!”
A great blast of steam shook the air above us, sending its wet vapors against our cheeks. The gangway swung clear and rolled back on the dock. Another moment, and the big ship trembled beneath our feet and slowly and definitely veered out against the straining hawsers.
We left the noisy exuberance of the crowd and went down the deck, in search of quieter moods.