“You are an American, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So am I,” and they fell into each other’s arms.
They spoke of the horrors of the raids—of the one then going on. Finally, Dorothy said:
“One thing I’m thankful for, I’m soon going back home, and will get away from all this.”
The girl’s eyes grew big. She said:
“You are going back! And you are not afraid?”
“Afraid? After all this? At least, if one is hit by a torpedo, it’s direct, and sure, and soon ended. In a raid like this, you never know.”
But the girl said:
“I can never imagine crossing the water again.”