18/44 Besides themselves there was nobody about but the caretaker. They were sitting in the House and the room was still warmed in winter by great stoves, but they were not needed now, as the windows were open and the fresh breeze of a grass-scented May morning blew in and tumbled the hair of the two youths of the same blood who sat side by side, close friends of their school days again, but who would soon be facing each other across red fields. It did not have the lazy perfumes of the breezes that floated up from the warm shores of the Gulf. It whipped the blood like the touch of frost. |