She had wished that in a burst of romance when Jem had gone , without , perhaps , really meaning it . She meant it now . There were moments when waiting at home , in safety and comfort , seemed an unendurable thing . The moon burst triumphantly through an especially dark cloud and shadow and silver chased each other in waves over the Glen . Rilla remembered one moonlit evening of childhood when she had said to her mother , `` The moon just looks like a sorry , sorry face . '' She thought it looked like that still -- an agonised , care-worn face , as though it looked down on dreadful sights . What did it see on the Western front ? In broken Serbia ? On shell-swept Gallipoli ? `` I am tired , '' Miss Oliver had said that day , in a rare outburst of impatience , `` of this horrible rack of strained emotions , when every day brings a new horror or the dread of it . No , do n't look reproachfully at me , Mrs. Blythe . There 's nothing heroic about me today . 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 -- do n't you ever -- did n'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 . ''
`` Do n't you think that is a kind XXXXX swearing , Susan ?
While about in like of on over that to with