"You talk of endings when life has just begun. Tell me, was Homer blind?"
"So they say," he answered, marvelling much what new shift of thought was coming next.
"I thought so," and the smile deepened until the grey eyes shone through their thin veil of unshed tears. "And Homer was blind yesterday or he would have seen I expected a very different question."
"Yes, laugh at my foolishness; I love to see you laugh, you who have laughed so little all these days. But I think the time of laughter has come for us both."
"Until you go back to Valmy."
"And that must be soon."
On the instant she belied his optimism, for the laughter faded from her eyes leaving her once more the woman of many sorrows, and with a sigh she released herself from his clasp.
"I hate Valmy; I have a horror of it and of your terrible King. He always seems to me like some dry-hearted, cold-hearted beast rather than a man. Is there nothing human in him?"
"He is more human than you think. Ursula, I know it, so you need not shake that dear, wise head of yours."
"You say so because you are so human yourself. Dear, I love you for your charity."