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I’m a soldier, you see. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. She was obliged to concede that his features were pleasing, his strength and vitality attractive; and there was no denying how well this uniform of a militia suited his figure, which was lean and powerful both. Then Gosse spoke again, answering the question in her mind. If I had been quite quiet and white and dignified, wouldn’t it have been different? Would he have dared?.
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