"Yes, there is more. I saw that—that she loved me. There was a scene—I am not always a beast—I tried not to be. Then—then I found that there was nothing left but to go away—somewhere—and live—without her. It was too late. She knew it—"
"Go on," said Jack.
Suddenly Sir Thorald's voice grew clear.
"Can't you understand?" he asked; "I damned both our souls. She is buying hers back with tears and blood—with the white cross on her heart and death in her eyes! And I am dying here—and she's to drag out the years afterwards—"
He choked; Jack watched him quietly.
Sir Thorald turned his head to him when the coughing ceased.
"She went with a field ambulance; I went, too. I was shot below that vineyard. They told her; that is all. Am I dying?"
Jack did not answer.
"Will you write to Molly?" asked Sir Thorald, drowsily.
"Yes. God help you, Sir Thorald."