He smiled. Speedily recovering himself, however, he rejoined, with forced calmness, "You are mistaken, Sir. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. It is the immediate inspiration of confidence; it alleviates pain, because we know by that smile that pain is soon to leave us; it becomes the bulwark against our depressive thoughts of death; and it is the promise that we still have a long way to go before we reach the Great Terminal. "You've given me more than the amount, Sir Rowland," he said, after he had twice counted them, "or I've missed my reckoning. His hand flew across the paper. Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. I have tried not to tell you—tried to be simply your friend.
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