“If God accepts me.”
The Swedish girl-soldier stood gazing upon her as though fascinated, crushing Palla’s slim hands between her own.
Presently she shook her head with a wearied smile:
“That,” she said, “is one thing I can not understand––the veil. No. I can understand this–––” turning her head and glancing proudly around her at her girl comrades. “I can comprehend this thing that I am doing. But not what you wish to do, Palla. Not such service as you offer.”
“I wish to serve the source of all good. My heart is too full to be satisfied by serving mankind alone.”
The girl-soldier shook her head: “I try to understand. I can not. I am sorry, because I love you.”
“I love you, Ilse. I love my fellows.”
After another silence:
“You go to the imperial family?” demanded Ilse abruptly.