"It _is_ rather morbid. Still, that's what it comes to, unless you'reswept away by ambition or driven by conviction. I sometimes haven't the convictionor the ambition, and the other thing is what it comes to with me. Iought to have been a preacher, after all; then I couldn't have asked itof myself, as I must, now I'm a lawyer. And you believe it really is a holy war,Editha?" he suddenly addressed her. "0h, I know you do! But you wish meto believe so, too?"

She hardly knew whether he was mocking or not, in the ironical way healways had with her plainer mind. But the only thing was to be outspokenwith him.

"George, I wish you to believe whatever you think is true, at any andevery cost. If I've tried to talk you into anything, I take it allback."

"0h, I know that, Editha. I know how sincere you are, and how--I wish Ihad your undoubting spirit! I'll think it over; I'd like to believe asyou do. But I don't, now; I don't, indeed. It isn't this war alone;though this seems peculiarly wanton and needless; but it really is every war--sostupid; it makes me sick. Why shouldn't this thing have been settledreasonably?"

"Because," she exclaimed, somewhat throatily again, "God meant it to be war."