Instinctively Nan turned to the man beside her.
"It's the boys!" she exclaimed. "They said they should fire a salute!
But--but--"
She broke off, amazed to find his arms gripping her tightly, forcing her
back in her seat, holding her pressed to him with a strength that took
her breath away.
It all came--a multitude of impressions--crowded into a few brief
seconds; yet every racing detail was engraved with awful distinctness
upon the girl's mind, never to be forgotten.
She struggled wildly in that suffocating hold, struggled fruitlessly to
lift her face from her husband's shoulder into which it was ruthlessly
pressed, and only ceased to struggle when the end of that terrible flight
came with a jolt and a jar and a final, sickening crash that flung her
headlong into a dreadful gulf of emptiness into which no light or echo of
sound could even vaguely penetrate.
CHAPTER II
Nan opened her eyes in her own sunny bedroom, and gazed wonderingly about
her, dimly conscious of something wrong.
The doctor, whom she had known from her earliest infancy, was bending
over her, and she smiled her recognition of him, though with a dawning
uneasiness. Vague shapes were floating in her brain that troubled and
perplexed her.
"What happened?" she murmured uneasily.
He laid his hand upon her forehead.
"Nothing much," he told her gently. "Lie still like a good girl and go to
sleep.
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