Your temper was in arms, not for yourself, but for him--his
comfort. How well I understand now! Madame, you and I have the same
cross laid upon us. But it's a cross of honour. It is _le croix de
guerre_!"
"I wish I had a right to it!" Dierdre broke out. "I haven't, because he
is not my husband. He doesn't care for me--except maybe, as a friend.
But to atone to him for injustice, to punish myself for hurting _you_,
I'll confess something. I'd marry him to-morrow, blind as he is--perhaps
_because_ he is blind!--and be happy and proud all my life--if he would
have me. Only,--_I know he won't_."
"My child! I care too much for you," Brian answered, after an instant of
astonished silence, "far too much to take you at your word. Some men
might--but not I! Monsieur le Capitaine here, and Madame, were husband
and wife before their trouble came. That is different----"
"No!" cried the woman whose name was Suzanne. "It is not different. My
husband's the one man on earth for me. If we were not married--if he had
lost his legs and arms as well as his eyes, I'd still want to be his
wife--want it more than a kingdom."
"You hear, Monsieur," her husband said, laughing a little, and holding
her close, with that perfect independence of onlookers which the French
have when they're thoroughly in love.
"I hear, Madame," said Brian. "But you, Monsieur le Capitaine--you would
not have accepted the sacrifice----"
"I'm not sure I could have resisted," the Frenchman smiled.
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