I've slumped.

I wish England had left Belgium to her fate--I wish Canada had never sent a man--I wish we'd tied our boys to our apron strings and not let one of them go.

Oh--I shall be ashamed of myself in half an hour--but at this very minute I mean every word of it.

Will the Allies never strike ?" "Patience is a tired mare but she jogs on," said Susan.
"While the steeds of Armageddon thunder, trampling over our hearts," retorted Miss Oliver.

"Susan, tell me--don't you ever--didn't you ever--take spells of feeling that you must scream--or swear--or smash something--just because your torture reaches a point when it becomes unbearable ?" "I have never sworn or desired to swear, Miss Oliver dear, but I will admit," said Susan, with the air of one determined to make a clean breast of it once and for all, "that I have experienced occasions when it was a relief to do considerable banging." "Don't you think that is a kind of swearing, Susan?
What is the difference between slamming a door viciously and saying d----" "Miss Oliver dear," interrupted Susan, desperately determined to save Gertrude from herself, if human power could do it, "you are all tired out and unstrung--and no wonder, teaching those obstreperous youngsters all day and coming home to bad war news.