laugh.
"Remember that funny little old silver teapot. Mother brought it to me before I left, and I took it with me! She is so proud of our family, although she has only that poor little pot to show for it, with its nose all melted off to make silver bullets sure to kill. Did you know it was one of those bullets Frale tried to kill you with? Oh, David, David!"
"And yet your mother is right, dear. That little wrecked bit of silver helps to interpret you—indicates your ancestors—how you come to be you—just as you are. How could I ever have loved you, if you had been different from what you are?"
For a long moment she lay still—scarcely breathing—then she lifted her head and looked in his eyes. One of her silences was on her, and while her lips trembled as if to speak, she said no word. He tried to draw her to him again, but she held him off.
"Then tell me what it is," he said gently. But she only shook her head and rose to walk away from him. He did not try to call her back to him, respecting her silence, and she moved on up the path with long, swift steps.
When she returned, he held out his arms to her, but she stood before him looking down into his eyes, "I couldn't tell you sitting there with your arms around me, David, and what I have to say must be said now; I may never be strong enough to say it another time, and it must be said."
Then she told him all that had occurred while she was in