THE RETURN OF THE SOLDIER
kept the inn there. It’s fifteen years, close on, since we left it. I shouldn’t never have got this telegram now if me and my husband hadn’t been down there last September and told the folks who keep it now who I was.
Kitty (folding up the telegram) : This is a likely story.
Margaret (pathetically) : It’s true . . . please, it’s true. I wouldn’t deceive you.
Kitty : There’s nothing about shell-shock in this wire.
Margaret : There . . . there was a letter, too
Kitty : Give it to me.
Margaret : Oh, no. I couldn’t do that . . . please, I couldn’t.
Kitty : Why not?
Margaret : I can’t. Indeed, I can’t. You mustn’t ask me, please. I tell you, he thinks it’s all like it was fifteen years ago. It’s like a letter out of the past. I can’t show it you. Oh, I’m sorry; I am, indeed. But that’s how it is. And I just had to come and tell you. I couldn’t keep it back. And I tell you it’s fifteen years since I’ve seen him. (Seeing Kitty’s face, moving to her.) Oh, please . . . it’s not as bad as all that. He’ll get better. I know he will. It’s only shell-shock. They do get better. A lady friend of mine whose son’s got it . . . the doctors say he’ll
20
