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 —she could not rid herself of the vision of anguished shapes striving together in the darkness. The horror of it took her by the throat—she drew a choking breath, and felt the tears on her face.

Peyton turned to her. The horses were climbing a hill, and his attention had strayed from them.

&quot;This has done me good,&quot; he began; but as he looked his voice changed. &quot;Kate! What is it? Why are you crying? Oh, for God's sake, don't!&quot; he ended, his hand closing on her wrist.

She steadied herself and raised her eyes to his.

&quot;I—I could n't help it,&quot; she stammered, struggling in the sudden release of her pent compassion. &quot;It seems so awful that we should stand so close to this horror—that it might have been you who—&quot;

&quot;I who—what on earth do you mean?&quot; he broke in stridently.