Haven't you found that already, in other places you have visited in this
journey of yours?"
"Yes," I answered, thinking of the old people I had seen at Vitrimont
living in the granaries of their ruined houses, and strangely,
unbelievably happy because they were "at home." "Yes, we have seen that
in little villages of Lorraine."
"Then how much more at Rheims, under the shadow of Notre-Dame!" The
scarred captain still gazed at the headless king, and faintly smiled.
CHAPTER XIX
Of course nothing did happen in Paris to break up the party. I might
have known that nothing would. Nothing happened at all, except that I
received a letter from Doctor Herter with the promised introduction to
an oculist just now at the Front, and that I realized, after three days'
absence, how Brian is improving. He has less the air of a beautiful
soul, whose incarnation in a body is a mere accident, and more the look
of a happy, handsome young man, with a certain spiritual radiance which
makes him remarkable and somehow "disturbing," as the French say. If
anything could stop the rats gnawing my conscience, it would be this
blessed change. Brian is getting back health and strength. When I think
what a short time ago it is that his life hung in the balance, this
seems a miracle. I'm afraid I am glad--glad that I did the thing which
has given him his chance. Besides, I love the Becketts. So does Brian.
And they love us. It's difficult to remember that I've stolen their
love.
Pages:
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205