Then without any attempt at caresses, he said, 'I wonder, Beryl, whether you--whether you--ever realize--what we soldiers have _seen_?
No!--thank God!--you don't--you can't.' She pressed her hands to her eyes, and shuddered.
'No, of course I can't--of course I can't!' she said passionately.
Then, while her eyes were still hidden, there passed through his worn features a sharp spasm, as of some uncontrollable anguish--passed and was gone.
He turned towards her, and she looked up.

If ever love, all-giving, self-forgetting, was written on a girl's face, it was written on Beryl's then.

Her wild-rose colour came and went; her eyes were full of tears.

She had honestly made her attempt, but she could not carry it through, and he saw it.

Some vague hope--of which he was ashamed--died away.