"Yes, with my college unit—to run errands in a flivver."
The next day, encountering Derry on the street, Drusilla opened her knitting bag and brought out a tiny parcel. "It's my wedding gift to you. I found it in Emily's toy shop."
It was a gay little French tin soldier. "For a mascot;" she told him, seriously. "Derry, dear, I shall not try to tell you how I feel about your marriage to Jean. About your going. If I could sing it, you'd know. But I haven't any words. It—it seems so—perfect that the Tin Soldier should go—to the wars—and that the girl he leaves behind him should be a little white maid like—Jean."
Thus Drusilla, with a shake in her voice, renouncing a—dream.
Derry, who was on his way to Margaret's showed the tin soldier to Teddy and his little sister. "He is going to the wars."
"With you?"
"Yes."
"When are you going?"
"As soon as I can—"
"I should think you wouldn't like to leave us."