“Would you have me apathetically content?” she asked.
“Ah, you know, dearest,” he moaned, “that I would have you be yourself!”
“Yes, I knew,” she said softly.
He gazed at her in an agony of longing. There was a sudden flare of hope.
“You said—a moment ago—that if your country did not need you, you would come to me.”
“And so I would!” she breathed.
“Then if there comes a day when your country is set free?”
“That day I’ll come to you!” she said.
But hope as suddenly died to ashes. “But moving among such dangers, you may never see that day!”
“Who knows? Six months—a year—more perhaps—and then——”