Barry put out his hand and touched her arm.
"Dad, this is your night nurse.

She was very kind to me last night, and again to-night.

This is Miss Vincent." The brightness of the V.A.D.'s smile outshone his own.
"I'm not a real nurse," she said.

"I'm only a V.A.D., you know.

They use me to wash the floors and dishes, and for all sorts of odd jobs.
To-night they are shorthanded, and have put me on this duty." While she was speaking, she continued to smile, a smile of radiant cheer and courage.
The wounded man listened gravely to her, his eyes searching her face, her eyes, her very soul, it seemed to her.