«Yes, ma’am.»
«How did you happen to dothat? Why didn’t you join up with us?» «I don’t know,» I said. «Could I join now?»
«I’m afraid not now. Tell me. Why did you join up with the Italians?» «I was in Italy,» I said,»and I spoke Italian.»
«Oh,» she said. «I’m learning it. It’s beautifullanguage.» «Somebody said you should be able to learn it in two weeks.»
«Oh, I’ll notlearn it in two weeks. I’ve studied it for months now. You may come and see herafter seven o’clock if you wish. She’llbe off then. But don’t bring a lot of Italians.»
«Not even for the beautifullanguage?» «No. Nor for the beautiful uniforms.» «Good evening,»I said.
«A rivederci, Tenente.»

«A rivederla.» I saluted and went out. It was impossible to salute foreigners as an Italian, without embarrassment. The Italian salute never seemedmade for export.
The day had been hot. I had been up the river to the bridgehead at Plava. It was there that the offensive was to begin. It had been impossible to advance on the far side the yearbefore because there was only one road leading down from the pass to the pontoonbridge andit was under machine­gun and shell fire for nearly a mile. It was not wide enough either to carry all the transport for an offensive and the Austrians could make a shambles out of it. But theItalians had crossed and spread out alittle way on the far sideto hold about a mile and a half on the Austrian side of the river. It was a nasty place and the Austrians should not have let them hold it.

I suppose it was mutual tolerance because the Austrians still kept a bridgehead further down the river. The Austriantrenches were above on the hillside only a few yards from the Italian lines. There had been a little town but it was all rubble. There was what was left of a railway station anda smashed permanent bridge that could not be repairedand used becauseit was in plain sight.

I went along the narrow road down toward the river, left the car at the dressing station under the hill, crossed the pontoon bridge, which was protected by a shoulder of the mountain, and went through the trenches in the smashed­down town and along the edge of the slope. Everybody was in the dugouts. There were racks of rockets standing to be touched off to call for help from the artillery or to signal with if the telephone wires were cut. It was quiet, hot and dirty. I looked across the wire at the Austrian lines. Nobody was in sight. I had a drink with a captain that I knew in one of the dugouts and went back across the bridge.

A newwide road was being finished that would go over the mountain and zig­zag down to the bridge.When this road was finished the offensive would start. It came down through the forestin sharp turns. The systemwas to bring everything down the new road and take the empty trucks, carts and loaded ambulances and all returning traffic up the old narrow road.Thedressing station was on the Austrian side of the river under the edge of the hill and stretcher­bearers would bring thewounded back across the pontoon bridge. It would be the same when the offensive started. As far as I could make out the last mile or so of thenew road where it started to level out would be able to be shelled steadily by the Austrians.

Itlooked as though it might be a mess. But I found a place where the cars would be shelteredafter they passed that last badlooking bit and could wait for the wounded to be brought across the pontoon bridge. I would have liked to drive over the new road but it was not yet finished. It lookedwide and well made with a good grade and the turns looked very impressive where you could see them through openings in the forest on the mountain side. The cars would be all right with their good metal­to­metal brakes and anyway, coming down, they would not beloaded. I droveback upthe narrow road.

Two carabinieri held the car up. A shell had fallen and while we waited three others fell up the road.They were seventy­sevens and came with a whishingrush of air, a hard bright burst and flash and then gray smoke that blew across theroad. The carabinieri waved us to go on. Passing where the shellshad landed I avoided the small broken places and smelled the highexplosive and the smell of blasted clay and stone and freshly shattered flint. Idroveback to Gorizia and our villa and, as I said, went to call on Miss Barkley, who was on duty.

At dinner I ate very quickly and left for the villa where the British had theirhospital. It was really very large and beautiful and there were fine trees in the grounds. Miss Barkley was sitting on a benchin the garden. Miss Ferguson was with her. They seemed glad to see me and in a little while Miss Ferguson excused herself and went away.

«I’llleave you two,» she said. «You get along very well without me.» «Don’t go, Helen,» Miss Barkley said.
«I’d really rather. I mustwrite some letters.» «Good­night,» I said.
«Good­night, Mr. Henry.»
«Don’t write anything that will bother the censor.»
«Don’t worry. Ionly write about what a beautiful place we live in and how bravethe Italians are.»
«That way you’ll be decorated.»
«That will be nice. Good­night, Catherine.»
«I’ll see you in a little while,» Miss Barkley said. Miss Ferguson walked away in the dark.
«She’s nice,» I said.
«Oh, yes, she’s very nice. She’s a nurse.» «Aren’t you a nurse?»
«Oh, no. I’m something calleda V. A. D. We work very hard but no one trusts us.» «Why not?»
«They don’t trustus when there’s nothing going on. When there is really work they trust us.»
«What is the difference?»

«A nurse is like a doctor. It takes along time to be. A V. A. D. is a short cut.» «I see.»
«The Italians didn’t want women so near the front. So we’re all on very special behavior. We don’t go out.»
«I can come here though.» «Oh, yes.We’re not cloistered.» «Let’s drop the war.»
«It’s very hard. There’s noplace to dropit.» «Let’s dropit anyway.»
«All right.»
Welooked at each otherin the dark. I thought she was very beautiful and I took her hand. She let me take it and I held it and put my arm around under her arm.
«No,» she said. I kept my armwhere it was. «Why not?»
«No.»
«Yes,» I said.»Please.» I leaned forward in the dark to kiss her and there was a sharp stinging flash. She had slapped my face hard. Her hand hadhit my nose and eyes, and tears came in my eyes from the reflex.
«I’m so sorry,» she said. I felt I had a certain advantage. «You were quite right.»
«I’m dreadfully sorry,» she said. «I just couldn’t stand thenurse’s­eveningoff aspect of it. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I did hurt you, didn’t I?»
She was looking at me in the dark. I was angry and yet certain, seeingit allahead like the moves in a chess game.
«You did exactly right,» I said. «I don’t mind atall.» «Poor man.»
«You see I’ve been leading a sort of a funny life. And I never even talk English. And then you are so very beautiful.» I looked at her.
«You don’t need to say a lot of nonsense. I said I was sorry. We doget along.» «Yes,» I said.»And we have gotten away fromthe war.»
She laughed. It was the first time I had ever heard herlaugh. I watched her face. «You are sweet,» she said.
«No, I’m not.»
«Yes. You are a dear. I’d be glad to kiss you if you don’t mind.»

I looked in her eyes and put my arm around her as I had before and kissedher. I kissedher hard and held hertight and tried to open herlips; they were closed tight. I was still angry and as I held her suddenly she shivered. I held her close against me and could feel herheart beating and herlips opened and her head went back against my hand and then she was crying on my shoulder.

«Oh, darling,» she said. «You willbe good to me, won’t you?»
What the hell, I thought. I stroked herhair and patted her shoulder. She was crying. «You will, won’t you?» Shelooked up at me. «Because we’re going to have a
strangelife.»
After a while I walked with her to the door of the villa and she went in and I walked home. Back at the villa I went upstairs to the room. Rinaldi was lying on his bed. He looked at me.

«So you make progress with Miss Barkley?» «We are friends.»
«You have that pleasant airof a dogin heat.» I did not understand the word.
«Of a what?» He explained.
«You,» I said, «have that pleasant air of a dog who­­»
«Stop it,» he said. «In a little while we would say insulting things.» He laughed. «Good­night,» I said.
«Good­night, little puppy.»
I knocked over his candle with the pillow and got into bedin the dark. Rinaldi picked up the candle,lit it and went on reading.

6

I was away for two days at the posts.When Igot home it was toolate and I did not see Miss Barkley until the next evening. She was not in the garden and I had to wait in the office of the hospitaluntil she came down. There were many marble busts on painted wooden pillars along the walls of the room they used for an office. The hall too, that the office opened on, was lined with them. They had the complete marble quality of alllooking alike. Sculpture had always seemed a dull business­­still, bronzes looked like something. But marble busts alllookedlike a cemetery.