Voices tell
a lot about people, don't they?--more than I ever dreamed they could.
Pete, there is nothing in that--that splendid, generous thing Hugh
did, the thing I am not to talk about, nothing to keep Hugh now from
going back to the world--some place--that is, far away from where
it happened--and beginning again, is there?"
"I hope not, Sylvie."
She sighed. "Of course it was wonderful. If he hadn't told me of it,
I never should have known half of his greatness; yet I can't help
wishing he were free. It's sad to think there will always be the
memory of that dreadful suffering and danger in his life."
"Very sad," said Pete.
"How alone we both are--he and I! Bella, and you, Pete--don't be
angry, please--I don't think you quite understand Hugh, quite
appreciate him."
"Perhaps not."
"He has always been lonely. You are so young, and Bella is so
stupid--stupid and cross."
"No, she isn't, Sylvie. I know Bella a lot better than you do. She's
not stupid or cross--"
"Well, I like you to stick up for your old nurse. She certainly must
have loved you a lot to bring you way out here and to stay here all
these years to take care of you. I wonder where she'll go and what
she'll do when Hugh and I get married.
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