“We’ll all catch it, if we can,” his mother said emphatically.
“Is that all, Mother?” he asked her gently.
“All?” she was puzzled.
“All you want of me?”
“Oh! Yes, dear,” she said brightly.
“Then I believe I’ll go and lie down again. I’m jolly tired and jolly weak.”
“Yes—do,” Florence said.
But at the door he turned back and came to her and took her in his arms.
“God bless you, Mother!” he whispered with his lips against her hair.
“God bless my boy!” she answered brokenly.