What a pang it was to lose all that: to have had it and not prized it! A thousand homely scenes and recollections crowded on him--in which he always saw her good and beautiful. And for himself, he blushed with remorse and shame, as the remembrance of his own selfishness and indifference contrasted with that perfect purity. For a while, glory, war, everything was forgotten, and the pair of friends talked about her only.

What a pang it was to lose all that: to have had it and not prized it! He blushed with remorse, as the memory of his selfishness and indifference contrasted with her perfect purity. For a while, glory, war, everything was forgotten, and the pair of friends talked about her only.
