She found herself struggling with a storm of tears. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. I doubt if you will receive anything for your trouble. But the offences I have committed are venial in comparison with what I should commit were I to wed your father. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently.
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