After dinner the Doctor and the Colonel took their way to the study to smoke and talk over matters connected with military organisation, in regard to which the Doctor confessed himself to be woefully ignorant. Jane led Larry into the library, where a bright fire was burning.
“Awfully jolly, this fire. We'll do without the lights,” said Larry, touching the switch and drawing their chairs forward to the fire, wondering the while how he should get himself to the point of courage necessary to his purpose. Had it been a few months ago how easy it would have been. He could see himself with easy camaraderie put his arm about Jane with never a quiver of voice or shiver of soul, and say to her, “Jane, you dear, dear thing, won't you marry me?” But at that time he had neither desire nor purpose. Now by some damnable perversity of things, when heart and soul were sick with the longing for her, and his purpose set to have her, he found himself nerveless and shaking like a silly girl. He pushed his chair back so that, unaware to her, his eyes could rest upon her face, and planned his approach. He would begin by speaking of Helen, of her courage, of her great loss, then of her supreme regret, at which point he would make his plea. But Jane would give him no help at all. Silent she sat looking into the fire, all the vivacity and brilliance of the past hour gone, and in its place a gentle, pensive sadness. The firelight fell on her face, so changed from what it had been in those pre-war days, now so long ago, yet so familiar and so dear. To-morrow at this hour he would be far down the line with his battalion, off for the war. What lay beyond that who could say? If she should refuse—“God help me then,” he groaned aloud, unthinking.
“What is it, Larry?” she said, turning her face quickly toward him.
“I was just thinking, Jane, that to-morrow I—that is—” He paused abruptly.
“Oh, Larry, I know, I know.” Her hands went quickly to her breast. In her eyes he saw a look of pain so acute, so pitiful, that he forgot all his plan of approach.
“Jane,” he cried in a voice sharp with the intensity of his feeling.
In an instant they were both on their feet and facing each other.
“Jane, dear, dear Jane, I love you so, and I want you so.” He stretched out his arms to take her.
Startled, her face gone deadly pale, she put out her hands against his breast, pushing him away from her.
“Larry!” she said. “Larry, what are you saying?”