They turned, and were looking back to the river. It was May at May's
loveliest: the grass and trees so tender a green, the river so gently
buoyant, and a softly sympathetic sky over all. A soldier had appeared
and was picking twigs from the putting green in front of them; another
soldier was coming down the road with some eggs which he was evidently
taking to Captain Prescott's quarters. He was whistling. Everything
seemed to be going very smoothly. And a launch was coming down the river;
a girl's laugh came musically across the water and the green; it inspired
the joyful throat of a nearby robin. And into this had been shot--!

Katie turned to the intruder. "It's lovely, isn't it?" she asked in a
queer, hushed way.

The girl looked at her, and at the fierce rush of things Kate took a
frightened step backward. But quickly the other had turned away her face.
Only her clenched hand and slightly moving shoulder told anything.

There was another call to make, and instinct alone could not reach this
time. For the moment thought of it left her mute.

"You have been so kind to me," she began, her timidity serving well as
helplessness, "so very kind. I wonder if I may ask one thing more? Am--am
I keeping you from anything you should be doing?"

There was no response at first, just a little convulsive clenching of the
hand, an accentuated movement of the shoulder. Then, "I have time
enough," was the low, curt answer, face still averted.

"I am alone here, as you see. I am just a little afraid of a--a return