She was under orders to hold
herself in readiness to start immediately for the scene of yesterday's
accident. That this trip, unless their plans miscarried, would
inevitably result in the exposure and disgrace of both the Hoffs she
felt morally certain. To face on friendly terms the man whose downfall
she was plotting, the man who only a few hours before had told her that
he loved her, seemed a task far beyond her endurance, a situation too
tragic for her to cope with.
Duty, her duty to her country, her honor, her patriotism, her affection
for her soldier brother, all bade her mask her feelings and seek one
more opportunity of leading Hoff to betray himself in conversation if
that were possible. Yet, to her own amazement and horror, her heart
protested vigorously against such action. Harassed as she was by
conflicting emotions, worn out by the trying experiences that had been
hers the last few days, she realized at last that she was really in love
with Hoff. The throb of joy that she had experienced at the sound of his
voice, the thrill that came to her each time she saw him, the delight
she found in his presence, the fact that despite all the circumstances,
she wanted to be near him, to be with him, convinced her against her
will and judgment that her heart was his.
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