"So your High School boys are feeling war-like these days?"
"Very. What do you think?"
"I think they'll have a chance to express their feelings."
"Do you, Claude? It seems awfully unreal."
"Nothing else seems very real, either. I'm going to haul out a load of lumber, but I never expect to drive a nail in it. These things don't matter now. There is only one thing we ought to do, and only one thing that matters; we all know it."
"You feel it's coming nearer every day?"
"Every day."
Gladys made no reply. She only looked at him gravely with her calm, generous brown eyes. They stopped before the low house where the windows were full of flowers. She took his hand and swung herself to the ground, holding it for a moment while she said good-bye. Claude drove back to the lumber yard. In a place like Frankfort, a boy whose wife was in China could hardly go to see Gladys without making talk.
