"And that being so," continued Graeme, feeling his advantage, "it's hardly logical to complain. After all, fighting is what we're for, not loafing about barracks. Why, it was only last night that you were at me to take my profession seriously, and now, when I've got a chance at last, you grumble. It isn't fair, Lucy, it isn't really; makes the going ten times worse for me."
"I—I'm not grumbling, only—crying a little. I—I shouldn't be human if I didn't. Oh, Hector, are you made of stone?"
"Of course I'm not, only I've got more self-control. I feel it every bit as much as you do; it's the same for me, you know."
"It isn't, it isn't!" sobbed Lucy. "You've got the excitement, your brother officers and—and the rest. You're not left alone with nothing to do but think, as I shall be after to-morrow, for you must go then, I suppose. Oh, dearest, couldn't you wait for just one more day, for my sake, Hector?"
"I—I'm afraid I must go to-night, Lucy," stammered Hector.
The girl sat up, her eyes rather wild.
"To-night? Oh no, no, you can't; you mustn't go to-night. I—I couldn't bear it, Hector."
"I must, dear; if I didn't, they might put me under arrest for disobedience to orders. Think what might be said too, that brute O'Hagan, for instance."
"What does it matter about him? I come first. And you can't go to-night. The road's not safe. Those awful precipices."
"There's no danger, Lucy, and, believe me, I must." Hector's jaw set and his eyes hardened.