"You cannot go out. I will take them."
"No, I shall go."
"I ask you not to."
"Let me, Jack," she said, coming up to him—"with you."
He could not make her listen; she went with him, her slender arms loaded with bottles. The shells were falling in the garden now; one burst and flung a shower of earth and glass over them.
"Hurry!" he said. "Are you crazy, Lorraine, to come out into this?"
"Don't scold, Jack," she whispered.
When she entered the stable he breathed more freely. He watched her face narrowly, but she did not blanch at the sickening spectacle of the surgeons' tables.
They placed their bottles of brandy along the side of a box-stall, and stood together watching the file of wounded passing in at the door.
"They do not need us here, yet," he said. "I wonder where Alixe is?"