"
He was silent for a few moments, and then he leant across and took her
hands in his.
"I am going," he said, "where there is just the possibility of an
accident: one never knows. I wanted to be sure that all was well with
you."
He was looking at the ring upon her hand.
"A soldier boy?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered. "If he comes back." There was a little catch in
her voice.
"I know he'll come back," he said. "I won't tell you why I am so sure.
Perhaps you wouldn't believe." He was still holding her hands, looking
into her eyes.
"Tell me," he said, "did you see your mother before she died. Did she
speak to you?"
"No," Joan answered. "I was too late. She had died the night before. I
hardly recognized her when I saw her. She looked so sweet and young."
"She loved you very dearly," he said. "Better than herself. All those
years of sorrow: they came to her because of that. I thought it foolish
of her at the time, but now I know she was wise. I want you always to
love and honour her. I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't right.
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