And she could not help but feel a certain
thrill that this powerful, aggressive man should find himself groping
for speech, shy and self-conscious before her.
And indeed, the young captain soon felt the emptiness of his words,
which were like banners raised without wind to support them. He
stopped, flushing with anger and embarrassment, and looked at her. As
clearly as if she had spoken, her eyes said to him. "It doesn't
matter. I know why you're here, and it's all right."
She stepped closer, and without fear or hesitation, began to stroke
the white muzzle of the bay, which to his surprise, did not pull away.
"He's never let anyone do that," he said honestly. "A perfect
stranger." He unconsciously stepped back, allowing her greater
freedom. "Have you been around horses all your life?"
"When I was younger, before....." Her face flushed. "But that's not
why. We understand each other."
"Before the war?"
"Yes," she said defensively. She could not understand his persistence,
into a matter that was clearly painful to her.
"Do you hate us all, then?"
Her eyes flashed, then became quiet again.
Pages:
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82