“My Lieutenant!” Norma whispered chokingly. At that instant she knew that she would gladly follow this leader round the world.
“Tonight,” she thought as she sank again into her seat, “Father and I are to dine with her. What a privilege!” She wondered what would be said at that dinner. And then the speech began.
Lieutenant Warren spoke slowly, distinctly. Norma caught every word and yet her voice never rose to a high pitch. She spoke at length of what she had seen, little of what she had done. Speaking of the enemy planes she said:
“They swooped low over roads that were crowded with carts drawn by horses or weary old men, and two-wheel carts pushed by women and children.
“These people were refugees. Driven from their homes, they were trying to save a little of that which they had once owned, for they had always been poor.
“But those enemy pilots!” There was biting anger in her low voice. “They came swooping down to shower machine-gun bullets upon these defenseless people.
“What did they want? To clog the road with helpless and innocent women and children so their armies might more easily destroy the defeated soldiers.”
As the speaker paused for breath, Norma stole a glance at her companions. Millie and Rosa were leaning forward, lips parted, eyes wide, drinking in every word. Betty sat well back in her seat, listening as one listens who has heard many rare speeches, yet there was on her face a look that said:
“This is real, though it is terrible. I shall not forget it.”
But Lena? Norma was startled. There was on her face a look as cold as marble.