Her own high courage failed her somewhat. During these recent days
when, struggling against very real stage fright, she made her
husky, wholly earnest but rather nervous little appeals to the
crowds before the enlisting stations, she got along bravely enough
during the day. But the night found her sad, unutterably depressed.
At these times she was haunted by a fear that persisted against
all her arguments. In Washington Clayton had not looked well.
He had been very tired and white, and some of his natural buoyancy
seemed to have deserted him. He needed caring for, she would
reflect bitterly. There should be some one to look after him. He
was tired and anxious, but it took the eyes of love to see it.
Natalie would never notice, and would consider it a grievance if
she did. The fiercely, maternal tenderness of the childless woman
for the man she loves kept her awake at night staring into the
darkness and visualizing terrible things. Clayton ill, and she
unable to go to him.
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