"No. I've seen too much of
hate, and death. I lost..... I lost everything."
And suddenly it came to her. She was standing and talking with a man,
her own flesh, who had been on the other side of the firing, and might
well have given the order to kill---
Her face went pale as an intolerable pain rose in the hollow of her
chest, and the full horror of war loomed before her. She stepped back,
senses failing, and would have fallen if he had not rushed forward and
caught her up.
Horrified at his own actions, which could have caused in her such
pain, he carried her back to a flat stone before the hut, which served
as a bench. She sat woozily for a moment, not knowing where she was,
until she became aware of his voice, and of his strong arm about her
shoulders, supporting her.
"Mary, it's all right," he said. "Please, please forgive me. We won't
speak of it again." And looking up at his troubled countenance, so
full of concern and self-reproach, she could not help but forgive him.
He continued, hardly knowing what he said, trying to mend the breach
that he had caused between them.
Pages:
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83