"You have frightened us all
terribly. The regiment has come and is attacking. There will be some
desperate fighting. We must all stick together."
She caught Nicholson's eyes resting on her. She thought she read pity
and sympathy in their steady depths, and wondered if he guessed what
she had tried to do. But he said nothing, and she followed the two men
blindly and indifferently back to the bungalow.
CHAPTER X
TRAVERS
They had no light. They talked in whispers, and now and again, when
the darkness grew too oppressive, they stretched out groping hands and
touched each other. They did this without explanation. Though none
complained or spoke of fear, each needed the consolation of the
other's company, and a touch was worth more than words. Mrs. Cary
alone needed nothing. She lay on the rough truckle-bed and slept. Thus
she had been for a week--a whole week of nerve-wrecking struggle
against odds which marked hope as vain. Bullets had beaten like rain
upon the walls about her, the moaning of wounded men on the other side
of the hastily constructed partition mingled unceasingly with the
cries of the ever-nearing enemy. And she had lain there quiet and
indifferent. Martins, the regiment's doctor, had looked in once at her
and had shaken his head. "In all probability she will never wake," he
had said. "Perhaps it is the kindest thing that could happen to her."
And then he had gone his way to those who needed him more.
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