“Everything is a jumble with me,” he went on happily, in a confidential tone, “yet it’s a heavenly kind of jumble. I can’t put anything into words. I don’t THINK very well yet, though Keredec is trying to teach me. My thoughts don’t run in order, and this that’s happened seems to make them wilder, queerer—” He stopped short.
“What has happened?”
He paused in his sentry-go, facing me, and answered, in a low voice:
“I’ve seen her again.”
“Yes, I know.”
“She told me you knew it,” he said, “—that she had told you.”
“Yes.”
“But that’s not all,” he said, his voice rising a little. “I saw her again the day after she told you—”
“You did!” I murmured.
“Oh, I tell myself that it’s a dream,” he cried, “that it CAN’T be true. For it has been EVERY day since then! That’s why I haven’t joined you in the woods. I have been with her, walking with her, listening to her, looking at her—always feeling that it must be unreal and that I must try not to wake up. She has been so kind—so wonderfully, beautifully kind to me!”