“How little he knew!” Betty replied soberly.
Marching and drilling were not hard for Norma. She had time to think of other things. She began studying the ancient fort, and the atmosphere that hung about it like a cloud.
She had begun to love the place, and at times found herself wishing that she might remain here for a long time.
“Four weeks seem terribly short,” she told Betty.
“It may be much longer,” Betty suggested. “You might join the motor transport school and learn to drive a truck in a convoy.”
“Yes, and I might not,” was her reply.
“Or attend the bakers’ and cooks’ school,” Betty suggested.
“Not that either.”
“Well then,” Betty exclaimed, “since you’re so awfully good at this drilling stuff, perhaps they’d let you attend the officers’ training school.”
“Hmm.” she murmured. “Now you’re talking! Maybe. I don’t know.”