"The shock is passing," Donelle's voice softened. "You will recover, I know you will—if you are brave."
"The shock! Good God, the shock! It was like hell let loose. For months I heard the splitting noise, the hot sand in my face——!"
It was the first time Norval had spoken of the war, and the drops of perspiration started on his forehead.
"Don't talk of it, Mr. Norval. Please let me help you to your feet. Just a few steps."
Donelle was afraid of the excitement she had aroused.
In self-defense Norval let her help him. He would not lie still and remember. His self-imposed silence, once broken, might overpower him. Something dynamic was surging in him.
"I cannot stand," he said weakly. "You see?"
"Of course the first time is hard. You may fall halfway, but I'll catch you, and I—I won't tell."
Norval laughed nervously.
"You're a brick," he faltered.