He represented his
country, as the Flag she loved represented hers. The flag was America,
the King was Belgium. That was all.
It was a very humble and flushed Sara Lee who watched the gray car go
flying up the street later on. She went in and told the whole story to
Harvey's picture, but it was difficult to feel that he was hearing. His
eyes were turned away and his face was set and stern. And, at last, she
gave it up. This thing which meant so much to her would never mean
anything to Harvey. She knew, even then, what he would say.
"Decorate you! I should think they might. Medals are cheap. Everybody
over there is getting medals. You feed their men and risk your life and
your reputation, and they give you a thing to pin on. It's cheap at the
price."
And later on those were Harvey's very words. But to be fair to him they
were but the sloughing of a wound that would not heal.
That evening Henri came again. He was, for the first time, his gay self
again--at least on the surface. It was as though, knowing what he was
going into, he would leave with Sara Lee no feeling, if he never
returned, that she had inflicted a lasting hurt.
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