Jean shining between the candles was a wonder for the world to gaze
upon. Derry couldn't keep his eyes off her. This was no longer a
little nun of the Toy Shop, yet he held the vision of the little nun in
his heart, lest he should forget that she had suffered.
He talked to them all. But beating like a wave against his
consciousness was always the thought of Jean. Of the things he had to
tell her which he could tell to no one else. He knew now that he could
reveal to her the depths of his nature. He had withheld so much,
fearing to crush her butterfly wings, but she was not a butterfly.
They had been playing at cross purposes, and writing letters that
merely skimmed the surface of their emotions. It had taken those
moments in the Toy Shop to teach them their mistake.
Teddy, feeling that the occasion called for a relaxing of the
children-should-be-seen-and-not-heard rule, asked questions.
"How long can you stay?"
"Ten days."
"Are you going to Fwance?"
"I hope so."
"Mother says I've got to pray for the Germans."
"Teddy," Margaret admonished.
"Well, I rather think I would," Derry told him.
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