Lonely Crusade
“Lee! You’re hurt!” Ruth exclaimed, rushing forward to help him as he came into the house.
He turned to look at her, his bruised, bandaged face set in somberness, and his stare passed through her into nothing. In that moment the motion ran out of her and she stopped as if turned to stone, for more terrible than a Gorgon’s head was the hurt in Lee Gordon’s eyes.
“Lee! Oh, Lee!” she cried, and now it was a prayer as her first shocked concern for his physical condition gave way to a gripping fear.
Without removing his hat he went to the davenport and sat down. His face held that naked look of protest seen in the face of a young girl just ravished trying to absorb the effects of the brutality, and his body looked more beaten than by guns alone.
Across the room where she had stopped Ruth Gordon stood helplessly, her heart mobile with the impulse to hold him in her arms but her body crucified by the fear of his repulsing her.
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