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She woke very early in the e in her mind: what John had done yesterday

Her ht behind her sleep to attack her with it in the first ot to come to a clear decision about that If Billy Sutton had done it, or one of McClane's chauffeurs, her decision would have been very clear She would have said he was a filthy coward and dismissed him from her mind But John couldn't be dismissed His funk wasn't like other people's funk Coupled with his ecstatic love of danger it had an unreal, fantastic quality Soer as an unreal, fantastic thing It had co; she had shared it as she ht have shared his passion

So that, even in the sharp, waking day she felt his fear as a secret,She couldn't account for it She didn't, considering the circue the imminence of the Germans to be a sufficient explanation It was as incomprehensible to-day as it had been yesterday

But there was fear and fear There was the cruel, aniians in the plantation, fear that was dark to itself and had no sadness in it; and there was John's fear that knew itself and was sad The unbearable, inconsolable sadness of John's fear! After all, you could think of hiht unaware in a trap and tortured And as she to judge him? She in her "are and his memory of his fear would be like a raw open wound in his e of it would be a perpetual irritant, rubbing against it and keeping up the sore Last night she hadn't done anything to heal hiave John up his wound would never heal She owed a sort of duty to the wound

Of course, like John, she would go on reet over it any more than he would Yet, after all, yesterday was only one day out of his life There ainst yesterday there was their first day at Berlaere and the day afterwards at Melle; there was yesterdayand there was that other day at Melle She had no business to suppose that he had done then what he did yesterday They had settled that once for all at the ti back with hiht