“Yes, yes,” said the officer, pulling his handkerchief from between two brass buttons of his double-breasted coat and wiping his brow. She did not notice that he made this motion purely as a cover for the searching glance which he suddenly gave her from head to foot. “Yes,” he continued, “but you don’t know what it is, ma’am. After you get through the other lines, what are you going to do then? There’s a perfect reign of terror over there. I wouldn’t let a lady relative of mine take such risks for thousands of dollars. I don’t think your husband ought to thank me for giving you a pass. You say he’s a Union man; why don’t he come to you?”
Tears leaped into the applicant’s eyes.
“He’s become too sick to travel,” she said.
“Lately?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I thought you said you hadn’t heard from him for months.” The officer looked at her with narrowed eyes.
“I said I hadn’t had a letter from him.” The speaker blushed to find her veracity on trial. She bit her lip, and added, with perceptible tremor: “I got one lately from his physician.”
“How did you get it?”
“What, sir?”
“Now, madam, you know what I asked you, don’t you?”