He turned now, for he heard Judith walking toward him. She was looking him straight in the eyes and was smiling strangely.
"I'm going to make you love me as you used to love me."
Her lips were left half parted from the whisper, and he could have stooped and kissed her—something that never in his life had he done—he knew that—but the old reverence came back from the past to forbid him, and he merely looked down into her eyes, flushing a little.
"Yes," she said, gently. "And I think you are just tall enough."
In a flash her mood changed, and she drew his head down until she could just touch his forehead with her lips. It was a sweet bit of motherliness—no more—and Crittenden understood and was grateful.
"Go home now," she said.
VII
At Tampa—the pomp and circumstance of war.