Again for the hundredth time he put it aside and blamed his morbid condition.

Nothing must inhibit his gladness.
Lorna gave Lane no chance to question her.

She was eager, voluble, curious, and most disconcertingly oblivious of a possible sensitiveness in Lane.
"Dare, you look like a dead one," she said.

"Did you get shot, bayoneted, gassed, shell-shocked and all the rest?
Did you go over the top?
Did you kill any Germans?
Gee! did you get to ride in a war-plane?
Come across, now, and tell me." "I guess about--everything happened to me--except going west," returned Lane.

"But I don't want to talk about that.