ANDREW. [Moving from her, with a hoarse laugh.] Dare? Dare I be damned by God and all his angels? Ha! Come, we're slow.
JOEL. Time enough.
ELLEN. [Sinking upon Joel's knapsack as a seat, leans her head on her hands, and looks strangely at Andrew.] I'd better have written, I'm afraid.
ANDREW. [Controlling his emotion.] Now, don't take it that way. I've considered it all.
ELLEN. [With deep quiet.] Blasphemously?
ANDREW. Reasonably, my brave wife. When I enlisted, I did so in a dream. I dreamed I was called to love and serve our country. But that dream is shattered. This sordid war, this political murder, has not one single principle of humanity to excuse its bloody sacrilege. It doesn't deserve my loyalty—our loyalty.
ELLEN. Are you saying this—for my sake? What of "God and his angels"?
ANDREW. [Not looking at her.] If we had a just cause—a cause of liberty like that in Seventy-six; if to serve one's country meant to serve God and his angels—then, yes; a man might put away wife and child. He might say: "I will not be a husband, a father; I will be a patriot." But now—like this—tangled in a web of spiders—caught in a grab-net of politicians—and you, you and our baby-boy, like this—hell let in on our home—no, Country be cursed!
ELLEN. [Slowly.] So, then, when little Andy grows up——
ANDREW. [Groaning.] I say that the only thing——