” His voice sounded muffled and heavy, as if he had gone to bed. Goodbye. At the thought of the major, her tears redoubled and she was obliged to rip off a piece from the remnants of her already maltreated underpetticoats with which to blow her nose and soak the damp from her cheeks. That is very bad indeed. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. Lucy's grin faded.
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