She was looking at the
doctor as he stared at her blindly, but she was suddenly conscious of a
loud and passionate "Damn!" very close to her. She guessed, rather than
realized, that she was standing on someone's foot.
"Oh, I am so sorry," she said, flushing hotly; she gave the owner of the
foot, which was in a neat brown shoe, a swift upward glance that stopped
at rather bright, downcast brown eyes. The next minute she was waving
to the doctor, for the tender had already started and the gap of dirty
water was widening.
"You'll take care, Marcella," he called. "And, Marcella, if you're
getting unhappy, you'll be coming back home?"
"Of course I'll come back. This is only a crusade," she said, waving her
hand to him, feeling that she would begin to dance with excitement in
another moment, and at the same time wishing that he could come with
her, for, as she saw him through mists slowly getting further and
further away while the gap of water widened, she realized how absolutely
alone she was.
Next moment she became aware of a tall, grey-haired lady in black
clinging to the rail beside the doctor, and crying unrestrainedly as she
seemed to be gazing directly at Marcella.
"Louis, you'll remember, won't you?" she cried in a faint, choked
voice. "You'll try, won't you?" and Marcella, turning slightly,
realized that it was the young man with brown eyes at whom she was
looking.
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