"
Her little pink and white face hardened until it looked almost
ugly. The unpercipient young man continued:
"And so I take my stand on a position that you must accept on
trust. I am English to the backbone. You can't possibly dream that
I'm not. Come, dear, let me try to explain."
His arm curved as if to encircle her waist. She sprang away.
"Don't touch me. I couldn't bear it. There's something about you I
can't understand."
In her attitude, too, he found a touch of the incomprehensible. He
said, however, with a sneer:
"If I were swaggering about in a cheap uniform, you'd find me
simplicity itself."
She caught at his opening, desperately.
"Yes. At any rate I'd find a man. A man who wasn't afraid to fight
for his country."
"Afraid!"
"Yes," she cried, and her blue eyes blazed. "Afraid. That's why I
can't marry you. I'd rather die than marry you. I've never told
you. I thought you'd guess. I'm an English girl and I can't marry
a coward--a coward--a coward--a coward."
Her voice ended on a foolish high note, for Randall, very white,
had seized her by the wrist.
"You little fool," he cried. "You'll live to repent what you've
said.
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