And then, "If he ever can be pleased with anything again."
It was the first time he had said Jerrold's name.
"That's what's been bothering me," he went on. "I can't think how
Jerrold's going to get over it. You remember what he was like when
Father died?"
"Yes." She remembered.
"Well—what's the War going to do to him? Look what it's done to me. He minds things so much more than I do."
"It doesn't take everybody the same way, Colin."
"I don't suppose Jerrold'll get shell-shock. But he might get something worse. Something that'll hurt him more. He must mind so awfully."
"You may be sure he won't mind anything that could happen to himself."
"Of course he won't. But the things that'll happen to other people.
Seeing the other chaps knocked about and killed."
"He minds most the things that happen to the people he cares about. To you and Eliot. They're the sort of things he can't face. He'd pretend they couldn't happen. But the war's so big that he can't say it isn't happening; he's got to stand up to it. And the things you stand up to don't hurt you. I feel certain he'll come through all right."