I do not see you, young man, among those who tramp with guns on their shoulders.

You ride; there is gold on your arms.

You will become great; but I do not understand.

I do not understand," closing her eyes for a moment.
The vintner sat upright, his chin truculent, his arm tense.
"War!" he murmured.
Gretchen's heart sank; there was joy in his voice.
"Go on, grandmother," she whispered.
"Shall I live ?" asked the vintner, whose belief in prescience till this hour had been of a negative quality.
"There is nothing here save death in old age, vintner." Her gnarled hand seized his in a vise.

"Do you mean well by my girl ?" "Grandmother!" Gretchen remonstrated.
"Silence!" The vintner withdrew his hand slowly.
"Is this the hand of a liar and a cheat?
Is it the hand of a dishonest man ?" "There is no dishonesty there; but there are lines I do not understand.
Oh, I can not see everything; it is like seeing people in a mist.