And so you are another?" And he
bent upon me a look so curiously considering, tender, and
wondering, at once, that I could not help smiling.
"A soldier!" said he, again, — "You? Have you ever been under
fire?"
I smiled again, and then, I don't know what it was. I cannot
tell what, in the question and in the look, touched some weak
spot. The question called up such sharp answers; the look
spoke so much sympathy. It was very odd for me to do; but I
was taken unawares; my eyes fell and filled, and before I
could help it were more than full. I do not know, to this day,
how — I came to cry before Thorold. It was very soon over, my
weakness, whatever it was. It seemed to touch him amazingly.
He got hold of my hand, put it to his lips, and kissed it over
and over, outside and inside.
"I can see it all in your face!" he said, tenderly; "the
strength and the truth to do anything, and bear — whatever is
necessary. But I am not so good as you. I cannot bear anything
unless it _is_ necessary; and this isn't.
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