It was through your great love and your high courage that you
made the sacrifice."
"Don't you be so naming it, sir!" cried Freckles. "It's just the
reverse. If I could be giving me body the hundred times over to save
hers from this, I'd be doing it and take joy with every pain."
He turned with a smile of adoring tenderness to the Angel. She was
ghastly white, and her eyes were dull and glazed. She scarcely seemed to
hear or understand what was coming, but she bravely tried to answer that
smile.
"Is my forehead covered with dirt?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"You did once," he gasped.
Instantly she laid her lips on his forehead, then on each cheek, and
then in a long kiss on his lips.
McLean bent over him.
"Freckles," he said brokenly, "you will never know how I love you. You
won't go without saying good-bye to me?"
That word stung the Angel to quick comprehension. She started as if
arousing from sleep.
"Good-bye?" she cried sharply, her eyes widening and the color rushing
into her white face. "Good-bye! Why, what do you mean? Who's saying
good-bye? Where could Freckles go, when he is hurt like this, save to
the hospital? You needn't say good-bye for that.
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