"I told him--and he doesn't care.

He doesn't care!" Her lips shook; her breast heaved; she hid her face in her hands.
"Oh, Louis, Louis, he's dead! And I said I didn't want to see him ever again!" His hand was on the arm of her chair.

"I'm so sorry," he said below his breath, guarding his tongue.
She had clutched his hand and dragged herself to her feet.

She was clinging to him almost, crying her heart out.
"I know," she said at last, "I know you care." He trembled violently.

In another minute he would have drawn her to him; he would have said the stupid, unutterable word.