"Berthe is a woman of the future, strong and sweet and entirely honest. As for Peter, it is easy to understand why men loved him as well as the one woman. A man brave and clean and finely poised, with something of the boy in him and something of the woman. An exciting tale, full of movement and color, admirable portrayal of character, romance, vivid pictures of men and events."--New York Times
of the gray day shone through her fingers--a long, fragile hand that trembled.
"Shall we walk somewhere, or must you go to your office, Peter?"
"I won't, just yet. Yes, let's go outside."
They felt they must climb, a bit of suffocation in their hearts. Until to-day there had been invariable stimulus for Mowbray in the age of all things, even in the dusty, narrow, lower streets, but his smiling, easy countenance was a lie that he disliked now. It pinched him cruelly to leave her, and there was small amelioration in anything that the war might bring. She would give him sympathy and zeal and honor for the work and through all the lonely days, but what a lack would be of that swift directness of purpose, the deeper seeing, the glad capacity for higher heroism which he had found only in her presence. They crossed the riverward corner of the Square, where they had met. He tried to tell her how she had seemed that first day.
"I cannot understand," she replied. "Especially that day when I