Holmes glanced out, and saw the sun was down.
"Lois," he said, "I want you to wish me a happy Christmas, as people do." Holmes had a curious vein of superstition: he knew no lips so pure as this girl's, and he wanted them to wish him good-luck that night.

She did it, looking up laughing and growing red: riddles of life did not trouble her childish fancy long.

And so he left her, with a dull feeling, as I said before, that it was good to say a prayer before the battle came on.

For men who believed in prayers: for him, it was the same thing to make one day for Lois happier..