"What are you thinking of?" she said. "Come tell me. It will be good for
both of us."
Rudolph crossed silently, and stood leaning on the gunwale beside her.
"I thought only," he answered, "how much the hills looked so--as a
dragon."
"How strange." The trembling phosphorus half-revealed her face, pale and
still. "I was thinking of that, in a way. It reminded me of what he
said, once--when we were walking together."
To their great relief, they found themselves talking of Heywood, sadly,
but freely, and as it were in a sudden calm. Their friendship seemed,
for the moment, a thing as long established as the dragon hills. Years
afterward, Rudolph recalled her words, plainer than the fiery wonder
that spread and burst round their little vessel, or the long play of
heat-lightning which now, from time to time, wavered instantly along the
eastern sea-line.
"You are right," she declared once. "To go on with life, even when we
are alone--You will go on, I know. Bravely." And again she said: "Yes,
such men as he are--a sort of Happy Warrior." And later, in her slow and
level voice: "You learned something, you say.
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