“You have deserted!”
Paul’s face twitched with a spasm of pain, but he did not take his eyes from Marguerite.
“Yes,” he said.
Marguerite shook him gently as one might shake a wayward child.
“But you can’t do that, Paul.”
“I have done it, Marguerite.”
“Oh, Paul—you can’t have understood what you were doing! You can’t have thought!”
“I have thought of everything.”
“You have sacrificed your honour.”
“I have you.”