"I shall be lonely," she said, impersonally, as if reading into that distance.
He started a little. After a while he said, hesitatingly: "The troop are here now; the lieutenant"
But she stood there, very still, staring at the future, stretching long ahead as the past mirrored, the lone, inexorable future reflecting the lone, hard past. She moved forward a step, and that step was very weary.
"I shall be lonely," she repeated.
A tremulous wonder came into his eyes.
But suddenly she had crumpled upon the long wicker chair, her face hidden in her arms, and her shoulders began to rise and fall softly.
He stood there, stupefied, watching the gentle swell and ebb, and slowly the wonder in his eyes grew to the light ineffable. He moved forward. He touched her timidly.
"Girl!" he said in awed murmur, as if in the hush of a cathedral, "Girl, can it be!"
But she remained gently weeping. He took her arms and raised her slowly; and they stood before each other, their twined hands hanging loose between them, their eyes into each other's, gravely reading.
"Girl!" he said again, and this time the tone held the ecstasy of revelation.
