"
"Oh," Laura said, simply, "do not be afraid! I have heard confessions! I
work at home, you see, a good deal among the hospitals, and--we do not
shrink, you know, in the Army from things like that."
"Good God!" he exclaimed, staring, "you don't think--you don't
suppose----"
"Ah! don't say that! It's so like swearing."
As he sat in helpless anger, trying to formulate something intelligible,
the curtain parted, and a sallow little Eurasian girl of eighteen, also
in the dress of the Army, came through from the bedroom part. She smiled
in a conscious, meaningless way, as she sidled past them. At the door
her smile broadened, and as she closed it after her she gave them a
little nod.
"That's my lieutenant," said Laura.
"The place is like a warren," Lindsay groaned. "How can we talk here?"
Laura looked at him gravely, as one making a diagnosis. "Do you think,"
she said, "a word of prayer would help you?"
"No," said Lindsay. "No, thank you. What is making me miserable," he
added, quietly, "is the knowledge that we are being overheard. If you go
into the next room, I am quite certain you will find Mrs. Sand listening
by the wall."
"She's gone out! She and the Captain and Miss De Souza, to take the
evening meeting.
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