Her hand still touched his sleeve, and her display of tenderness irritated him. He could not return it, and his mouth felt stiff.
"How grave you look. Does Uncle Kit know?"
"Yes."
"Poor, dear old man. I might go and comfort him."
"I shouldn't, Rose."
For Squire Kit was deep in one long, blasphemous soliloquy.
There was a short, constrained silence, Jasper avoiding his cousin's eyes.
"Now, I know I am keeping you. Duty calls. But, O Jasper, it is hard——"
"The French are not here yet."
"How brave and calm you look."