“David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. A note of belligerency had crept into his tone. She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. ‘But Gérard—if you mean the fellow Alderley who was making eyes at Yolande—is not here. “I want to know who you are. ” “Tolstoy is so good about this,” said Miss Miniver, regardless of her friend’s attitude.
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