The bright red spots on Victor’s cheeks, his pale forehead and brilliant eyes and saucy little moustaches seemed to give his quotation a peculiar vividness. Claude envied him. It must be great fun to take up a part and play it to a finish; to believe you were making yourself over, and to admire the kind of fellow you made. He, too, in a way, admired Victor,–though he couldn’t altogether believe in him.
“You’ll never go back,” he said, “I wouldn’t worry about that.”
“Take it from me, there are thousands who will never go back! I’m not speaking of the casualties. Some of you Americans are likely to discover the world this trip… and it’ll make the hell of a lot of difference! You boys never had a fair chance. There’s a conspiracy of Church and State to keep you down. I’m going off to play with some girls tonight, will you come along?”
Claude laughed. “I guess not.”
“Why not? You won’t be caught, I guarantee.”
“I guess not.” Claude spoke apologetically. “I’m going out to see Fanning after dinner.”
Victor shrugged. “That ass!” He beckoned the waiter to open another bottle and bring the coffee. “Well, it’s your last chance to go nutting with me.” He looked intently at Claude and lifted his glass. “To the future, and our next meeting!” When he put down his empty goblet he remarked, “I got a wire through today; I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“For London?”
“For Verdun.”
Claude took a quick breath. Verdun… the very sound of the name was grim, like the hollow roll of drums. Victor was going there tomorrow. Here one could take a train for
