“Ah! But that was long ago. And men change ... amazingly sometimes.” Then he cast off the oppression of his pessimism. “But if there’s to be war, surely there will be commands in which to employ a practised soldier—especially one who has experience of the enemy, experience gained in the enemy’s own service.” It was as if he uttered aloud his thoughts.
She frowned at this. Little by little in the past month she had drawn from him some essential part of his story, and although he had been far from full in his confidences, yet she had gleaned enough to persuade herself that a reason existed why he should never reach this duke upon whom he depended for military employment. And in that she had taken comfort; for, as you surmise, it was no part of her intention that he should go forth to the wars again, and so be lost to her.
“I marvel now,” said she, “that you will be vexing yourself with such matters.”
He looked at her. “A man must live,” he explained.
“But that’s no reason why he should go to the wars and likely die. Hasn’t there been enough o’ that in your life already? At your age a man’s mind should be on other things.”
“At my age?” He laughed a little. “I am but thirty-five.”
She betrayed her surprise. “You look more.”
“Perhaps I have lived more. I have been very busy.”
“Trying to get yourself killed. Don’t it occur to you that the time has come to be thinking o’ something else?”
He gave her a mildly puzzled glance, frowning a little.