But suppose I go?” “Now, Veronica! No, no. ‘Jacques, where are you hurt?’ But as she asked the question, she saw the wound. ” “You have not seen the evening paper?” “No. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. Love…. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. The young man was mollified by her sympathy, and flattered by the obvious attempts of several of the other guests to draw him into conversation.
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