"Of course you had to stand by her," she agreed.
"You haven't heard it all," he said quietly. "When I'm through, if you
get up and leave me, I'll understand, Delight, and I won't blame you."
He told her the rest of the story in a voice strained with anxiety.
It was as though he had come to a tribunal for judgment. He spared her
nothing, the dinner at the road-house with Rudolph at the window, his
visit to Anna's room, and her subsequent disappearance.
"She told the Department of Justice people that Rudolph found her that
night, and, took her home. She was a prisoner then, poor little kid.
But she overheard her father and Rudolph plotting to blow up the mill.
That's where I came in, Delight. He was crazy at me. He was a German, of
course, and he might have done it anyhow. But Rudolph told him a lot
of lies about me, and--he did it. When I think about it all, and about
Joey, I'm crazy."
She slipped her hand over his.
"Of course they would have done it anyhow," she said softly.
"You aren't going to get up and go away?"
"Why should I?" she asked. "I only feel--oh, Graham, how wretched you
must have been."
Something in her voice made him sit up straighter. He knew now that it
had always been Delight, always. Only she had been too good for him.
She had set a standard he had not hoped to reach. But now things were
different. He hadn't amounted to much in other things, but he was a
soldier now. He meant to be a mighty good soldier. And when he got his
commission-"You won't mind, then, if I come in to see you now and then?"
"Mind? Why, Graham!"
"And you don't think I'm quite hopeless, do you?"
There were tears in her eyes, but she answered bravely: "I believe in you every minute. But then I think I always have."
"Like fun you have!" But although he laughed, it was a shaky laugh.
Suddenly he stood up and shook himself. He felt young and strong and
extremely happy. There had been a bad time, but it was behind him now.
Ahead there lay high adventure, and here, beside him in the dusk, was
the girl of his heart. She believed in him. Work to do and a woman who
believed in a fellow--that was life.
"Aren't you cold?" he asked, and drew the gaudy sweater tenderly around
her shoulders.