This page needs to be proofread.
She thought I was frightened, and came over and smoothed my hair. "Of course you didn't kill him; but he is much the worse for the beating you gave him."
Then I wept bitterly in utter contempt for myself at having failed in such a small task as killing just a little Turkish boy. Years afterwards, when I accidentally found myself in the midst of the Armenian massacres, I could appreciate probably better than most spectators the feeling of racial antipathy which gloried in the shedding of blood.
