And the man was wondering if the memory of the tear that fell on his face and the pressure of a woman's lips were only a dream.
He scouted the idea of going to a hospital and Nan insisted on taking him home.
When her car stopped at South Washington Square and Stuart insisted on scrambling out alone, she held his hand tight a moment and spoke with trembling earnestness:
"You will see me now, Jim, and be friends?"
He answered promptly.
"Yes, Nan, I will. The world is never going to be quite the same place for me after to-day. There was one moment this morning in which I think I lived a thousand years."
A hot flush stole over the woman's beautiful face as she looked steadily into his eyes and quietly asked:
"What moment was that?"
"The moment I looked down that gun barrel, saw the stupid hate in that fool's eyes and felt the throb of the insane desire to kill in the people behind him, the people for whom I've been giving my life a joyous sacrifice."
Nan smiled a sigh of relief.