Norma wondered in a vague sort of way how Lena had got her training. She knew about her own. It hadn’t been easy.
After a time she began wondering about the moon. Seeing it shine over the stables, the barracks and mess halls would be a pleasant experience. She wasn’t dressed for the outdoors, so she stepped to the window and looked up. She did not see the moon. Instead, her eyes fell upon two shadowy figures. One was Lena. The other, too, was a girl.
“Just another raw recruit,” she thought.
But then the girl turned so the light of a distant lamp was on her face. She was the girl who had done Norma’s hair that afternoon.
“Should have been back in the city hours ago,” she told herself.
It all seemed very strange to her. Where had Lena known this girl before? Or had she? Why were they together now? Only time could tell, and perhaps time wouldn’t.
She was just thinking of retiring when Lena again entered the room. Seating herself before the fire she held out her hands to warm them. For some time neither girl spoke. At last leaning far over and speaking in a hoarse whisper Lena said:
“You know that little Italian girl?”
“Rosa?”
“Yes.”