"I know a man who said to me, 'I find it necessary to cover my troubles with a protective coating, a something of my mind that prevents them from poisoning the whole internal atmosphere.' There is some quality of mind and heart that does this, just as the healthy blood does it for the germs. It does not kill them, but it cuts them off from poisonous contact."
"I don't know how to get this spiritual antiseptic. Would your friend give me the formula, do you think?"
"I think we all have to work out our own, Bobs."
They paced the little garden paths in silence for a time.
"You've helped me, more than any one, to get through the most difficult period of my life, Jane."
"I'm glad, dear."
"You're a good soldier; you stand up to things. I'm ashamed to whimper to you about a bullet in my heart."
"It helps some people to whimper, Bobs. It helps me not to. It's nothing to my credit, and I shall think no less of you, if you let go, give way to it, submit to a surgeon. Then we can build new tissue."
"I'm all right, Jane, I'm building now."
"Isn't the garden fragrant to-night?"