The man plunged after Virginia, and called once:
“Halt!”
He raised his rifle to fire as she rushed squarely into the arms of the sentry who held the gate.
She struggled fiercely to free herself from the hated uniform and felt his arms tighten with savage power.
Vassar spoke in low, tense whispers:
She lifted her eyes in joyous terror and saw the face of her lover tense with rage.
“God in heaven!” she cried.
“Sh, still now—on your knees,” he breathed.
“Oh, Uncy darling!” Zonia moaned.