"He never thought of himself, sir. It was our comfort first. He was far
more than our sergeant major. He watched us like a father; that's what
he did."
As Barry listened to the soldiers telling of his father in broken words,
and with flowing tears, he almost wondered at them for their tears and
wondered at himself that he had none. Tears seemed to be so much out of
place in telling such a tale as that.
The train for Etaples leaving at an unearthly hour in the morning, Barry
went to take farewell of the V. A. D. the night before.
"That is an awfully early hour," she said, "and, oh, such a wretched
train." There was in her voice an almost maternal solicitude for his
comfort.
"That's nothing," said Barry. "When I see you here at your unending
work, it makes me feel more and more like a slacker."
"Wait for me here a moment," she said, and hurried away to return
shortly in such a glow of excitement as even her wonted calm and
self-restraint could not quite hide.
"I'm going to drive you to Etaples to-morrow in my car.
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