“And you—do you and Pierrette think about things the same way?” Deering asked.
“We do—by not thinking,” Babette replied. “Thinking among the comrades is forbidden, is it not?”
“Absolutely,” Hood affirmed. “Our young brother here is still a little weak in the faith, but he’s taking to it splendidly.”
“I’m new myself,” Babette confessed.
“You’re letter-perfect in the part,” said Hood. “Perhaps you were driven to it? Don’t answer if you would be embarrassed by a confession.”
The girl pondered a moment; her face grew grave, and she played nervously with the sugar-tongs.
“A man loved me and I sent him away, and was sorry!” The last words fell from her lips falteringly.
“He will come back—if he is worthy of one of the comradeship,” said Hood consolingly. “Even now he may be searching for you.”
“I was unkind to him; I was very hard on him! And I’ve been afraid—sometimes—that I should never see him again.”
Deering thought he saw a glint of tears in her eyes. She rose hastily and asked with a wavering smile: