He repeated the address after me, and then stopped, holding out his
hand. "That's all," he said abruptly. "I shall be glad, whatever
happens, that I waited, and had this talk with you. Good-bye."
"Good-bye--and good luck in the mission," I echoed.
He pressed my hand so hard that it hurt, and with one last look turned
away. He did not go far, however, but stopped on his way back to ask
Dierdre O'Farrell about her arm. She and Brian (Puck had joined the
Becketts) were only a few paces behind me, and pausing involuntarily I
heard what was said. It was easy to see that Dierdre wished me to hear
her part.
"My arm is going on very well," she informed her benefactor. "I thank
you again for your kindness in attending to it. But I don't think it was
kind to order me to keep a secret, and then give it away yourself. You
made me seem an--ungracious pig and a fool. I shouldn't mind that, if it
did you good, in return for the good you've done me. But since it was
for nothing----"
"I apologize," Herter broke in. "I meant what I said then. But a power
outside myself was too strong for me. Maybe it will be the same for you
some day. Meanwhile, don't make the mistake I made: don't do other
people an injustice."
Leaving Dierdre at bay between anger and amazement, he stared with
professional eagerness into Brian's sightless eyes, and stalked off
toward the hospice.
CHAPTER XVI
Since I wrote you last, Padre, I have been in the trenches--real, live
trenches, not the faded, half-filled-up ghosts of trenches where men
fought long ago.
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