She hesitated a moment, stirring the moss with one dainty foot.
"That you might not return," she added, smiling as she looked up at me.
"Then—then perhaps it will do as well if I climb a tree."
"No, no; I wish to talk with you."
"Ma'm'selle, you honor me," I said.
"And dishonor myself, I presume, with so much boldness," she went on. "It is only that I have something to say; and you know when a woman has something to—to say—"
"It is a fool that does not listen if she be as fair as you," I put in.
"You are—well, I shall not say what I think of you, for fear—for fear of giving offence," said she, blushing as she spoke. "Do you like the life of a soldier?"
"Very much, and especially when I am wounded, with such excellent care and company."
"But your side—it was so horribly torn. I did feel very sorry—indeed I did. You will go again to the war?"