Young off.  Yes.

Girl.  I too.  I lofe music.

Young off.  I suppose all Russians do.

Girl. [With another quick look tat him] I go there always when I haf the money.

Young off.  What!  Are you as badly on the rocks as that?

Girl.  Well, I haf just one shilling now!

     [She laughs bitterly.  The laugh upsets him; he sits on the
     window-sill, and leans forward towards her.]

Young off.  I say, what’s your name?

Girl.  May.  Well, I call myself that.  It is no good asking yours.

Young off. [With a laugh] You’re a distrustful little soul; aren’t you?

Girl.  I haf reason to be, don’t you think?

Young off.  Yes.  I suppose you’re bound to think us all brutes.

Girl. [Sitting on a chair close to the window where the moonlight falls on one powdered cheek] Well, I haf a lot of reasons to be afraid all my time.  I am dreadfully nervous now; I am not trusding anybody.  I suppose you haf been killing lots of Germans?

Young off.  We never know, unless it happens to be hand to hand; I haven’t come in for that yet.

Girl.  But you would be very glad if you had killed some.

Young off.  Oh, glad?  I don’t think so.  We’re all in the same boat, so far as that’s concerned.  We’re not glad to kill each other—­not most of us.  We do our job—­that’s all.

Girl.  Oh!  It is frightful.  I expect I haf my brothers killed.

Young off.  Don’t you get any news ever?

Girl.  News?  No indeed, no news of anybody in my country.  I might not haf a country; all that I ever knew is gone; fader, moder, sisters, broders, all; never any more I shall see them, I suppose, now.  The war it breaks and breaks, it breaks hearts. [She gives a little snarl] Do you know what I was thinking when you came up to me?  I was thinking of my native town, and the river in the moonlight.  If I could see it again I would be glad.  Were you ever homeseeck?

Young off.  Yes, I have been—­in the trenches.  But one’s ashamed with all the others.

Girl.  Ah!  Yees!  Yees!  You are all comrades there.  What is it like for me here, do you think, where everybody hates and despises me, and would catch me and put me in prison, perhaps. [Her breast heaves.]

Young off. [Leaning forward and patting her knee] Sorry—­sorry.

Girl. [In a smothered voice] You are the first who has been kind to me for so long!  I will tell you the truth—­I am not Rooshian at all —­I am German.

Young off. [Staring] My dear girl, who cares.  We aren’t fighting against women.