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Updated: May 9, 2025
We have faced death together. That is a strong tie. And I have held you in my arms. Do you think you can forget that?" "I shall never want to forget you." "I shall not let you forget me. You may go I cannot prevent that perhaps. But wherever I am; Saralie, I shall stand between that lover of yours and you.
"That's rather silly, isn't it? Men don't die for the people they love." "I would die for you, Saralie." She eyed him rather helplessly. "I don't think you mean that." Bad strategy that, for he drew her to him. His arms were like steel, and it was a rebellious and very rigid Sara Lee who found she could not free herself. "I would die for you, Saralie!" he repeated fiercely.
"I am not ill," he said, and threw himself into the corner of the seat. "You have read it?" She nodded. Even thinking of it brought a lump into her throat. He bent forward, but he did not touch her. "I meant it, Saralie," he said. "Sometimes men are infatuated, and write what they do not mean. They are sincere at the time, and then later on But I meant it. I shall always mean it."
"Do you love him?" he demanded. "Sara Lee, look at me!" Only he pronounced it Saralie. "He has done a very cruel thing. Do you still love him?" Sara Lee shut her eyes. "I don't know. I think I do. He is very unhappy, and it is my fault." "Your fault!" "I must go, Henri. The men are waiting." But he still held her arm. "Does he love you as I love you?" he demanded. "Would he die for you?"
In the intervals of calls they crawled over her, and the littlest one called her Saralie. She held the child in her arms close. "Saralie!" said the child, over and over; "Saralie! That's your name. I love your name." And there came, echoing in her ears, Henri and his tender Saralie. There was an oppression on her too. Her very bedroom thrust on her her approaching marriage.
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