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Updated: May 15, 2025
He felt at home in that spacious hall, built for wide gestures and stately steps, in which all the little routine of the army seemed unreal, and the wounded men discarded automatons, broken toys laid away in rows. Andrews was snatched out of his thoughts. Applebaum was speaking to him; he turned his head. "How d'you loike it bein' wounded, buddy?" "Fine."
And he lay in his cot, staring with wide open eyes at the ceiling, hoping desperately that his wounds would be long in healing. Applebaum sat on the edge of his cot, dressed in a clean new uniform, of which the left sleeve hung empty, still showing the creases in which it had been folded. "So you really are going," said Andrews, rolling his head over on his pillow to look at him.
"Hell, I doan care about that, or gettin' gassed, and smashed up, or anythin', but I thought we was goin' to put things to rights by comin' over here.... Look here, I had a lively business in the undertaking way, like my father had had before me.... We did all the swellest work in Tilletsville...." "Where?" interrupted Applebaum, laughing. "Tilletsville; don't you know any geography?"
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