“Nice work, Alice,” the Young Lord said. “It must have been a very long time since I was here.”
“It has been,” Alice agreed. “Quite too long. But these children,—they are refugees from London. Bombed out, you know.
“You should have seen them when they came!” she added in a low voice, with a grimace. “Their mothers came with them. But they couldn’t stand the eternal silence of this place.”
“So they left you the children?” said Applegate. “Good old Alice!”
“Oh, they’re really a joy!” The girl’s face lighted.
“But Harm!” Her face sobered. “That plane dropped a bomb on the old playhouse. Blew it to bits. You know, you used to come and play with us sometimes long ago—with dolls and things,” she added teasingly.
“With dolls! Good heavens!” he exclaimed.
“And today the dolls had their heads blown off,” Cherry added. “Just think! It might have been our heads that were blown off!”
“Yes,” the young man’s face sobered, “it might have been. That was a real scrap. Didn’t come out so badly on the whole. Did they catch the men who bailed out?”
“Two of them.” Brand’s brow wrinkled. “The Home Guard tells me the other got away.”