Betty caught her breath. “What chances you take!”
“I just sort of walked into that one.” Norma sighed. “There were voices. Then I saw a hand. The hand gripped my arm until it hurt. A man’s rough voice said something. He was very angry.”
“And then?” Betty breathed.
“All of a sudden his voice changed. He was humble, apologetic. He said, ‘You are one of the lady soldiers. You came here by mistake perhaps.’”
“But how could he know you were a WAC?”
“Only by the feel of the material in my WAC coat. Wasn’t that strange!”
“Perhaps he’d been a tailor. It’s wonderful the things you can do by the sense of touch when your hands are trained.”
“He let me out,” Norma said quietly.
“And you never went back?”
“Never!”