Page "fiction" Paragraph 775
from
Brown Corpus
John's type of man allowed this sort of thing to happen.
What a fool he had been to think of his brother!!
So Charles was dead.
What did it matter??
His name had been crossed off a list.
Already his cool body lay in the ground.
What words had any meaning??
What had he thought of, to go to John, grovel and beg understanding??
To confess with a canvas chair as a prie-dieu, gouging at his heart until a rough and stupid hand bade him rise and go??
Men were slaughtered every day, tumbled into eternity like so many torn parcels flung down a portable chute.
What made him think John had a right to witness his brother's humiliation??
What right had John to any special consideration??
Was John better, more deserving??
To hell with John.
Let him chafe with impatience to see Charles, rip open the note with trembling hands and read the formal report in Hillman's beautiful, schoolmaster's hand.
John would curse.
He believed that brave boys didn't cry.
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