Part 36 (2/2)
”Naw. America's good enough for me. 'Fris--oh, Lord! San Francisco--for that matter. I'd like to go to the next International Socialist Congress all right--next year. Maybe I will. I guess that would give me enough of Europe to last me the rest of my natural life.”
”I met a good many Frenchmen, and I have a friend married to a very clever one. He says they expect a war with Germany in a year two--”
”There'll never be another war. Not in Europe or anywhere else. The socialists won't permit it.”
”There are a good many socialists--and syndicalists--in France, and it's quite true they're doing all they can to prevent any money being voted for the army or expended if it is voted; but I happen to know that the Government has asked the president of the Red Cross to train as many nurses as she can induce to volunteer, and as quickly as possible. My friend Madame Morsigny was to begin her training a few days after I left.”
”Hm. So. I hadn't heard a word of it.”
”We get so much European news out here! America first! Especially in the matter of murders and hold-ups. Who cares for a possible war in Europe when the headlines are as black as the local crimes they announce?”
”Sure thing. Great little old papers. But don't let any talk of war from anywhere at all worry you. And I'll tell you why. At the last International Congress all the socialists of all the nations were ready to agree that all labor should lay down its tools--quit work--go on a colossal strike--the moment those blood-sucking capitalists at the top, those sawdust kings and kaisers and tsars--or any president for that matter--declared war for any cause whatsoever. All, that is, but the German delegates. They couldn't see the light. Now they have. When we meet next August the resolution will be unanimous. Take it from me.
You've read of your last war in some old history book. Peace from now on, and thank the socialists.”
”I should. But suppose Germany should declare war before next August?”
”She won't. She ain't ready. She'd have done it after that there 'Agadir Incident' if she'd dared. That is to say been good and ready.
Now she's got to wait for another good excuse and there ain't one in sight.”
”But you believe she'd like to precipitate a war in Europe for her own purposes?”
”She'd like it all right.” And he quoted freely from Treitschke and Bernhardi, while Alexina as ever looked at him in wonder. He seemed to be more deeply read every time she met him, and he remained exactly the same James Kirkpatrick. ”What an advent.i.tious thing breeding was!
Mortimer had it!”
”Well, I am glad I spoke of it. You have relieved my mind, for you speak as one with authority.... There is something else I want to talk to you about.... A friend of mine is in a dilemma and I don't quite know how to advise her.... We're all such a silly set of moths--”
”No moth about you!” interrupted Mr. Kirkpatrick firmly. ”Some of them--those others, if you like. The only redeeming virtue I can see in most of them is that they are what they are and don't give a d.a.m.n. But you--you've got more brains and common sense than the whole bunch of women in this town put together.”
”Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I'm afraid I've addled my brains trying to cultivate them, and what I'm more afraid of is that I've addled my common sense.” She spoke with such gayety, with such a roguish twinkle, and curve of lip, that neither then nor later did he suspect that she was the heroine of her own tale.
”Well, fire away. No, thanks, no more. I only drink tea to please you anyway. Tea is so much hot water to me.”
”Well, smoke.” She pushed the box of cigarettes toward him. ”I know you smoke a pipe, but I won't let my husband smoke one at home. It's bad for my curtains.... This is it--One of my friends, poor thing, has had a terrible experience: discovered that her husband has stolen the part of her little fortune whose income enabled them to do something more than keep alive. You see, it's a sad case. She believed in him, and he had always been the most honest creature in the world; and that's as much of a blow as the loss of the money.”
”What'd he do it for?”
”Oh, I know so little about business ... he wanted to get rich too quickly I suppose ... speculated or something ... perhaps got into a hole. This has been a bad year.”
”Poor chap!” said Kirkpatriek reflectively.
”You're not commiserating _him_?”
”Ain't I, just? He done it, didn't he? He's got to pay the piper, hasn't he? Women don't know anything about the awful struggles and temptations of the rotten business world. He didn't do it because he wanted to, you can bet your life on that. He's just another poor victim of a vicious system. A fly in the same old web; same old fat spider in the middle! Not capital enough. Hard times and the little man goes under, no matter if he's a darn sight better fellow than the bloated beast on top--”
”You mean if we were living in the Socialistic Utopia no man could go under?”
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