Military life in Italy : sketches - Societa italiana di storia militare

THE DISABLED SOLDIER.
2$ I
But he could not go on.
" And III! how shall I work ?" and he buried his head in
his hands, shaking it in a disconsolate manner.
"
But, Carlo, why do you talk to me in that ?
way Am I not
yours ? Are we not all here ? I am very good at sewing, you
know that I don't say
it to praise myself. And that lady, you
know, who lives in the villa near here, has offered me work
several times, and I have always refused it ;
but now and all
the more when she knows how you have returned
I will bring
the work home. Will that do ? Then I will work beside you,
and you will tell me all you have seen : the towns and places
you have passed through, and if
you always remembered me,
what you did every day, if you had comrades from this neighborhood,
and what you
all talked about."
On she went in this tone, growing more and more fervent,
always on her knees before him, keeping
one hand on his
shoulder, and twisting the buttons, whose numbers had got
upside down, into their places with her forefinger and thumb.
Her cheeks were suffused with a brilliant rose-color, her eyes
glistening with a soft light, and the words dropped so warmly
and spontaneously from her lips, and there was so much ingenuousness
and grace in her gestures, looks, and smiles, in her
whole person, even in that humble position, that
the good soldier
looked at and listened to her like one in ecstasy.
had finished speaking, she fixed
When she
her eyes upon him as if to ask
for a word of comfort, and he gave her one that was better
than any she could have desired " " " Oh, : Gigia
! he said, you
"
make me forget all my misfortune !
" "
And I never will let you remember it ! the sweet girl
cried, with enthusiacm.
Then he put his arms around her and
they both wept heartily.