He rose.
"Our blows will never weaken nor our hearts grow faint," he said, "if we have such eloquence and such beauty to inspire us." She drew back a little.

His persistent happiness of mood fell cruelly on her flinching heart at that moment.

He noted her sudden relapse into dejection, with disappointment.
"Do not be sad," he said.

"Discomforts do not last for ever." "It is not that," she said in a low voice.

"I have buried beloved dead on this journey and I have surrendered all my substance to a pillager." There was the silence of arrested thought.