ou?"

There was no softness or yielding in his tone. It was as he intended;
the tone of a man who cares only that victory has been won. Nancy shook
her head.

"I'm--I'm glad," she said desperately.

"Glad?" Bull was startled.

The girl made a little involuntary movement. She averted her gaze to the
window through which the wintry sunlight was pouring.

"Oh, don't you understand? Can't you? Is the victory so much to you that
you have no thought, no feeling, for the suffering it has brought? Are
you so hard set on your purpose of achievement that nothing else
matters? Oh, it's all dreadful. I used to feel that way. I counted no
cost. Achievement? It was everything to me. And now, now that I know the
thing it means I feel I--I want to die."

Bull took a strong hold upon himself.

"I know," he said slowly. "You see, Nancy, you're just a woman. You're
just as tender and gentle--and--womanly, as God made you to be. He gave
you a beautiful woman's heart, and a courage that was quite wonderful
till it came into conflict with your heart. You had no right to be flung
into this thing. And only a man of Peterman's lack of scruple could have
done such a thing. Well, I'm not going to preach a long sermon, but I
want to tell you some of the things I've got in my mind before I get the
sleep I need. God knows that none of this thing you're blaming yourself
for lies at your door. It would all have happened without you. Peterman
designed it, and put it through for all he was worth. Now I want to say
I'm glad--glad of it all. I've no pity for the Bolshevic dregs of Europe
he employed. They were out for loot, they were out to grab the things
and the power that other folks set up. Any old death that hit them they
amply deserved. As for our folk who've gone under--well, we mustn't
think too deeply that way. We all took our chances, and some had to go.
I was ready to go. So was Bat. So were we all. We wanted victory, and we
wanted it for those who survived. We honour our dead, but our lives must
not be clouded by their going. It's war--human war. And just as long as
the world lasts that war will always be. Good and bad men will die, and
good and bad women will suffer at the sight. But for God's sake have
done with the notion that you--you have anything to take to yourself,
except that you've fought a good fight, and--lost. It sounds like the
devil talking, doesn't it? Maybe you'll think me a monster of
heartlessness. I'm not."

"Oh,