the red cross girl(红十字姑娘)-第6章
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and worked for your living； and still said your smile was worth more than
all of old man Flagg's millions； not knowing they were YOUR millions。
Suppose he didn't ask any money of you； but just to take care of you； to
slave for youonly wanted to keep your pretty hands from working； and
your pretty eyes from seeing sickness and pain。 Suppose you met that man
among this rotten lot； what would you do？ What wouldn't you do？〃
〃Why； Anita！〃 exclaimed Miss Page。
〃What would you do？〃 demanded Anita Flagg。 〃This is what you'd do：
You'd go down on your knees to that man and say： 'Take me away！ Take
me away from them； and pity me； and be sorry for me； and love meand
love meand love me！〃
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〃And why don't you？〃 cried Helen Page。
〃Because I'm as rotten as the rest of them！〃 cried Anita Flagg。
〃Because I'm a coward。 And that's why I'm crying。 Haven't I the right to
cry？〃
At the exact moment Miss Flagg was proclaiming herself a moral
coward； in the local room of the REPUBLIC Collins； the copy editor； was
editing Sam's story' of the laying of the corner…stone。 The copy editor's
cigar was tilted near his left eyebrow； his blue pencil； like a guillotine
ready to fall upon the guilty word or paragraph； was suspended in mid… air；
and continually； like a hawk preparing to strike； the blue pencil swooped
and circled。 But page after page fell softly to the desk and the blue pencil
remained inactive。 As he read； the voice of Collins rose in muttered
ejaculations； and； as he continued to read； these explosions grew louder
and more amazed。 At last he could endure no more and； swinging swiftly
in his revolving chair； his glance swept the office。 〃In the name of Mike！〃
he shouted。 〃What IS this？〃
The reporters nearest him； busy with pencil and typewriters； frowned
in impatient protest。 Sam Ward； swinging his legs from the top of a table；
was gazing at the ceiling； wrapped in dreams and tobacco smoke。 Upon
his clever； clean…cut features the expression was far…away and beatific。 He
came back to earth。
〃What's what？〃 Sam demanded。
At that moment Elliott； the managing editor； was passing through the
room his hands filled with freshly pulled proofs。 He swung toward Collins
quickly and snatched up Sam's copy。 The story already was lateand it
was important。
〃What's wrong？〃 he demanded。 Over the room there fell a sudden
hush。
〃Read the opening paragraph；〃 protested Collins。 〃It's like that for a
column！ It's all about a girlabout a Red Cross nurse。 Not a word about
Flagg or Lord Deptford。 No speeches！ No news！ It's not a news story at all。
It's an editorial； and an essay； and a spring poem。 I don't know what it is。
And； what's worse；〃 wailed the copy editor defiantly and to the amazement
of all； 〃it's so darned good that you can't touch it。 You've got to let it go or
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THE RED CROSS GIRL
kill it。〃
The eyes of the managing editor； masked by his green paper shade；
were racing over Sam's written words。 He thrust the first page back at
Collins。
〃Is it all like that？〃
〃There's a column like that！〃
〃Run it just as it is；〃 commanded the managing editor。 〃 Use it for your
introduction and get your story from the flimsy。 And； in your head； cut out
Flagg entirely。 Call it 'The Red Cross Girl。' And play it up strong with
pictures。〃 He turned on Sam and eyed him curiously。
〃What's the idea； Ward？〃 he said。 〃This is a newspapernot a
magazine！〃
The click of the typewriters was silent； the hectic rush of the pencils
had ceased； and the staff； expectant； smiled cynically upon the star
reporter。 Sam shoved his hands into his trousers pockets and also smiled；
but unhappily。
〃I know it's not news； Sir；〃 he said； but that's the way I saw the story
outside on the lawn； the band playing； and the governor and the governor's
staff and the clergy burning incense to Flagg； and inside； this girl right on
the job taking care of the sick and wounded。 It seemed to me that a
million from a man that won't miss a million didn't stack up against what
this girl was doing for these sick folks！ What I wanted to say；〃 continued
Sam stoutly 〃was that the moving spirit of the hospital was not in the man
who signed the checks； but in these women who do the workthe nurses；
like the one I wrote about； the one you called 'The Red Cross Girl。'〃
Collins； strong through many years of faithful service； backed by the
traditions of the profession； snorted scornfully。
〃But it's not news！〃
〃It's not news；〃 said Elliott doubtfully； 〃but it's the kind of story that
made Frank O'Malley famous。 It's the kind of story that drives men out of
this business into the arms of what Kipling calls 'the illegitimate sister。'〃
It seldom is granted to a man on the same day to give his whole heart
to a girl and to be patted on the back by his managing editor； and it was
this combination； and not the drinks he dispensed to the staff in return for
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its congratulations； that sent Sam home walking on air。 He loved his
business； he was proud of his business； but never before had it served him
so well。 It had enabled him to tell the woman he loved； and incidentally a
million other people； how deeply he honored her； how clearly he
appreciated her power for good。 No one would know he meant Sister Anne；
save two peopleSister Anne and himself； but for her and for him that was
as many as should know。 In his story he had used real incidents of the day；
he had described her as she passed through the wards of the hospital；
cheering and sympathetic； he had told of the little acts of consideration
that endeared her to the sick people。
The next morning she would know that it was she of whom he had
written； and between the lines she would read that the man who wrote
them loved her。 So he fell asleep； impatient for the morning。 In the hotel at
which he lived the REPUBLIC was always placed promptly outside his
door； and； after many excursions into the hall； he at last found it。 On the
front page was his story； 〃The Red Cross Girl。〃 It had the place of honor
right…hand column； but more conspicuous than the headlines of his own
story was one of Redding's； photographs。 It was the one he had taken of
Sister Anne when first she had approached them； in her uniform of mercy；
advancing across the lawn； walking straight into the focus of the； camera。
There was no mistaking her for any other living woman； but beneath the
picture； in bold； staring； uncompromising type； was a strange and
grotesque legend。
〃Daughter of Millionaire Flagg；〃 it read； 〃in a New Role； Miss Anita
Flagg as The Red Cross Girl。〃
For a long time Sam looked at the picture； and then； folding the paper
so that the picture was hidden； he walked to the open window。 From below；
Broadway sent up a tumultuous greetingcable cars jangled； taxis hooted；
and； on the sidewalks； on their way to work； processions of shop…girls
stepped out briskly。 It was the street and the city and the life he had found
fascinating； but now it jarred and affronted him。 A girl he knew had died；
had passed out of his life foreverworse than that had never existed； and
yet the city went or just as though that made no difference； or just as little
difference as it would have made had Sister Anne really lived and really
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died。
At the same early hour； an hour far too early for the rest of the house
party； Anita Flagg and Helen Page； booted and riding…habited； sat alone at
the breakfast table； their tea before them； and in the hands of Anita Flagg
was the DAILY REPUBLIC。 Miss Page had brought the paper to the table
and； with affected indignation at the impertinence of the press； had pointed
at the front…page photograph； but Miss Flagg was not looking at the
photograph； or drinking her tea； or showing in her immediate surroundings
any interest whatsoever。 Instead； her lovely eyes were fastened with
fascination upon the column under the heading 〃The Red Cross Girl〃； and；
as she read； the lovely eyes lost all trace of recent slumber； her lovely lips
parted breathlessly； and on her lovely cheeks the color flowed and faded
and glowed and bloomed。 When she had read as far as a paragraph
beginning； 〃When Sister Anne walked between them those who suffered
raised their eyes to hers as flowers lift their faces to the rain；〃 she dropped
the paper and started for telephone。
〃Any man；〃 cried she； to the mutual discomfort of Helen Page and the
servants； 〃who thinks I'm like that mustn't get away！ I'm not like that and I
know it； but if he thinks so that's all I want。 And maybe I might be like
thatif any man would help。〃
She gave her attention to the telephone and 〃Information。〃 She
demanded to be instantly put into communication with the DAILY
REPUBLIC and Mr。 Sam Ward。 She turned again upon Helen Page。
〃I'm tired of being called a good sport；〃 she protested； 〃by men who
aren't half so good sports as I am。 I'm tired of being talked to about
moneyas though I were a stock…broker。 This man's got a head on his
shoulders； and he's got the shoulders too； and he's got a darned good…
looking head； and he thinks I'm a ministering angel and a saint； and he put
me up on a pedestal and made me dizzyand I like being made dizzy； and
I'm for him！ And I'm going after him！〃
〃Be still！〃 implored Helen Page。 〃Any one might think you meant it！〃
She nodded violently at the discreet backs of the men…servants。
〃Ye gods； Parker！〃 cried Anita Flagg。 〃Does it take three
