"You must not."
She put her hands on his shoulders to restrain him. He caught them and held them close to him. She let him for a moment, then gently freed them from his clasp.
"It is no worse than he says—your hurt?"
"It isn't bad at all."
"You're sure? You see, I didn't know until I got to the office. And
they made it out very bad there. They even said you mightn't live.
And I had to wait until he came with definite word. It was terrible.
When I thought—oh, David!"
The steadiness she had had to keep up before others gave way. Suddenly she sat on the bed, pressing both hands tightly against her face.
"Don't, Esther!" Her weakness hurt him. "Don't! There's nothing to cry for."
"Let me. I'll be all right—in a minute."
He let her then. And he wished that the hot iron in his own heart could be cooled a little in tears. But his eyes were dry and aching and the iron burned deeper. There was something to cry for.
"Now!" It was the tempter whispering. "Now is the time to tell her."