"Then you'll miss me, dearest?"
"You know I will, Daddy."
"But you will have your Derry." His jealousy forced that.
"As if it makes any difference about—you."
She hid her face against his coat. She felt suddenly that the war was assuming a new and very personal aspect. Of course men had to go. But she and her father had never been separated—not for more than a day or week, or a month when she was at the shore.
"How long, Daddy?"
"God knows, dearest. Until I am not needed."
"But—" her lip trembled.
"You are going to be my brave little girl."
"I'll try—" the tears were running down her cheeks.