Джеймс Кейн - Sinful Woman

“Then I’ll give that, and fifty I have saved up, to the hospital. Altogether, now, how much does that make?”

“Little over quarter million.”

“That’s a start.”

“It assures the institution.”

“...About Hazel.”

“Just say, and I’ll attend to it.”

“I don’t know whether to keep her here, or send her back to California. You see, I’ll want her with me, and—”

“You staying here?”

“I might be getting married.”

He took her in his arms, held her close, looked at her gravely, almost reverently. Then he said: “I’m going in the army.”

“So am I.”

“Doing what?”

“Nursing I think.”

Presently he said: “Up to this minute, I been a little bit in love with Edith Cavell, as well as Sylvia Shoreham. Now I’m not. I’m all in love with you. Because listen: I want you to go in the army. I want you to be a nurse. But I don’t want you to wind up like Edith Cavell did. You hear what I’m telling you?”

“I’ll wind up as I wind up.”

“...That’s right.”

“When do you go in the army?”

“Twentieth of next month.”

“Then the day after that, I go. But — until then, can’t we be with each other? Can’t I be here with you?”

“The sun’s coming up.”

“So it is.”

“Come on, I want you to see your home.”

In the gray dawn, a car slowed down on a deserted road, and turned in at the stone posts that marked the entrance of a ranch. In it were a man and a woman, saying nothing, sitting very close.