There now, don't scold
me, dear! Let us eat our biscuits together, like
two good children, without quarrelling over them
--for to-morrow we die."
He took a sweet biscuit from the plate and
carefully halved it, breaking the sugar ornament
down the middle with scrupulous exactness.
"This is a kind of sacrament, like what the
goody-goody people have in church. 'Take, eat;
this is my body.' And we must d-drink the wine
out of the s-s-same glass, you know--yes, that is
right. 'Do this in remembrance----'"
She put down the glass.
"Don't!" she said, with almost a sob. He
looked up, and took her hands again.
"Hush, then! Let us be quiet for a little bit.
When one of us dies, the other will remember this.
We will forget this loud, insistent world that howls
about our ears; we will go away together, hand in
hand; we will go away into the secret halls of
death, and lie among the poppy-flowers. Hush!
We will be quite still."
He laid his head down against her knee and covered
his face.
Pages:
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395