"Don't be silly, little bride," he pleaded. "You're a soldier's wife now. The bullet hasn't been molded that's going to get me. I feel it. I know it."
She threw her arms around his neck and held him in a long silence. Only a sob broke the stillness. He let her cry. His arms merely tightened their tender hold, as he caressed her fair head and kissed it.
"There, there, now. That's enough. It's hard, this first parting. It's hard for me. You mustn't make it harder."
"We've just begun to live, dearest," she faltered. "I can't let you go.
I can't stand it for an hour and you'll be gone for days and days—"
She paused and sobbed.
"Why did I marry a soldier-man?"
"You had to, honey. It was fate. God willed it."
He spoke with deep reverence. She lifted her lips for his goodbye kiss.
He turned quickly to go and she caught him again and smothered him with kisses.
"I can't help it, darling man," she sobbed. "I didn't mean to make it hard for you—but—I've an awful presentiment that I shall lose you—"