"Yes."
He rose awkwardly and started to the door. Jennie placed her hand on his
wounded arm with a gesture of pathetic protest.
"Dick!"
"I can't help it, I must go--"
"Not like this!"
"I can't smile and lie to you. It means too much. I hate that man. He's
a scoundrel, if God ever made one--"
Jennie's hand slipped from his arm.
"That will do now--not another word--"
"I beg your pardon, Jennie," he stammered. "I didn't think what I was
saying, honey. It just popped out because it was inside. You'll forgive
me?"
The anger died in her eyes and she took his outstretched hand.
"Of course, I understand--and I'm sorry. I appreciate the love you've
given me. I wish in my heart I could have returned it. You deserve it--"
The Captain lifted his left hand.
"No pity, please. I'm man enough to fight--and I'm going to fight.
You're not yet _Signora_ Socola--"
The girl laughed.
"That's more like a soldier!"
"We'll be friends anyhow, Jennie?"
"Always."
The Captain left the Senator's house with a grim smile playing about his
strong mouth. He had made up his mind to fight for love and country on
the same base. He would ask for his transfer to the Secret Service of
the Confederacy.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE PATH OF GLORY
Jefferson Davis had created the most compact and terrible engine of war
set in motion since Napoleon founded the Empire of France.
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