"That's enough now. Don't go on talking about it."
"All right. Are you going to stop at Mr. Bates'?"
"No."
"He was very pressing."
"I've no spirit to tell him—or any one else—what we've heard over there."
"Will," and she drew close to him, nestling against him as much as she could venture to do without causing him difficulty in driving, "you said we were to look forward, not back. Don't get thinking of the past. What's done is done—and it must be right to be happy if we can."
"Ah," and he gave a snort, "that's what the heathens used to say. I thought you were a Christian."
"So I am, Will. Christ preached mercy—yes, and happiness too."
"Thought He preached remorse for sins before you reach pardon and peace. But never mind religion—don't let's drag that in. And leave me alone. Don't talk. I tell you I want to think."
"Very well, dear. Only this one thing. Keep this before you. Now that he's dead—"