]
GIRL. No; I believe in nothing, not even in my country. My heart is
dead.
YOUNG OFF. Yes; you think so, but it isn't, you know, or you
wouldn't have 'been crying when I met you.
GIRL. If it were not dead, do you think I could live my life-walking
the streets every night, pretending to like strange men; never
hearing a kind word; never talking, for fear I will be known for a
German? Soon I shall take to drinking; then I shall be "Kaput" veree
quick. You see, I am practical; I see things clear. To-night I am a
little emotional; the moon is funny, you know. But I live for myself
only, now. I don't care for anything or anybody.
YOUNG OFF. All the same; just now you were pitying your folk at
home, and prisoners and that.
GIRL. Yees; because they suffer. Those who suffer are like me--I
pity myself, that's all; I am different from your English women. I
see what I am doing; I do not let my mind become a turnip just
because I am no longer moral.
YOUNG OFF. Nor your heart either, for all you say.
GIRL. Ni-ice boy, you are veree obstinate. But all that about love
is 'umbog.
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