I was staring at her, looking into the past which she had conjured up, divining things she had passed lightly over.
“Why are you staring so?” she said, a little embarrassed.
“I was trying to imagine you in your white and blue costume,—the most beautiful robe that has ever been given to woman,” I said solemnly. “You have no photograph?”
She shook her head.
“I only meant I should have liked to see it.”
“I love the uniform, too,” she said, and a note of sadness was in her voice.
“But you will go back?” I said, before I could catch myself.
“I shall never go back. Will you take the tray?”
I hastened to obey. When I returned, I saw at once a stiffening of her whole nature against me.