But Theodorica of Esthonia had known him only in his uniform.
As she came toward him, lovely in her lithe and rounded grace, only friendly curiosity gazed at him from her blue eyes.
Suddenly she knew him, went scarlet to her yellow hair, then white: and tried to speak — but had no control of the short, rosy upper lip which only quivered as he took her hands.
The forest was dead still around them save for the whisper of painted leaves sifting down from a sunlit vault above.
Finally she sad in a ghost of a voice: "My — friend. …"
"If you accept his friendship. …"
"Friendship is to be shared. … Ours mingled — on that day. … Your share is — as much as pleases you."
"All you have to give me, then."
"Take it … All I have. …" Her blue eyes met his with a little effort. All courage is an effort.
Then that young man dropped on both knees at her feet and laid his lips to her soft hands.