“Captain Macklin,” she cried. “What is it? What have I said?” She
stretched out her hand toward me, but I did not stop.
“Captain Macklin!” she called after me in such a voice that I was forced
to halt and turn.
“What are you going to do?” she demanded. “Oh, yes, I see,” she
exclaimed. “I see how it sounded to you. And you?” she cried. Her voice
was trembling with concern. “Because I said that, you mean to punish me
for it--through my brother? You mean to make him suffer. You will kill
him!” Her voice rose to an accent of terror. “But I only said it because
he is my brother, my own brother. Cannot you understand what that means
to me? Cannot you understand why I said it?”
We stood facing each other, I, staring at her miserably, and she
breathing quickly, and holding her hand to her side as though she had
been running a long distance.
“No,” I said in a low voice. It was very hard for me to speak at all.
“No, I cannot understand.”