Part 66 (1/2)
”Well, how's everything?” Andrews asked looking up suddenly.
”I've been in a labor battalion. That's how everything is.”
”G.o.d, that's tough luck!”
Andrews wanted to go on. He had a sudden fear that he would be late. But he did not know how to break away.
”I got sick,” said Fuselli grinning. ”I guess I am yet, G. O. 42. It's a h.e.l.l of a note the way they treat a feller... like he was lower than the dirt.”
”Were you at Cosne all the time? That's d.a.m.ned rough luck, Fuselli.”
”Cosne sure is a h.e.l.l of a hole.... I guess you saw a lot of fighting.
G.o.d! you must have been glad not to be in the G.o.ddam medics.”
”I don't know that I'm glad I saw fighting.... Oh, yes, I suppose I am.”
”You see, I had it a h.e.l.l of a time before they found out. Courtmartial was d.a.m.n stiff... after the armistice too.... Oh, G.o.d! why can't they let a feller go home?”
A woman in a bright blue hat pa.s.sed them. Andrews caught a glimpse of a white over-powdered face; her hips trembled like jelly under the blue skirt with each hard clack of her high heels on the pavement.
”Gee, that looks like Jenny.... I'm glad she didn't see me....” Fuselli laughed. ”Ought to 'a seen her one night last week. We were so dead drunk we just couldn't move.”
”Isn't that bad for what's the matter with you?”
”I don't give a d.a.m.n now; what's the use?”
”But G.o.d; man!” Andrews stopped himself suddenly. Then he said in a different voice, ”What outfit are you in now?”
”I'm on the permanent K.P. here,” Fuselli jerked his thumb towards the door of the building. ”Not a bad job, off two days a week; no drill, good eats.... At least you get all you want.... But it surely has been h.e.l.l emptying ash cans and shovelling coal an' now all they've done is dry me up.”
”But you'll be goin' home soon now, won't you? They can't discharge you till they cure you.”
”d.a.m.ned if I know.... Some guys say a guy never can be cured....”
”Don't you find K.P. work pretty d.a.m.n dull?”
”No worse than anything else. What are you doin' in Paris?”
”School detachment.”
”What's that?”
”Men who wanted to study in the university, who managed to work it.”
”Gee, I'm glad I ain't goin' to school again.”
”Well, so long, Fuselli.”
”So long, Andrews.”
Fuselli turned and slouched back to the group of men at the door.