But in that moment he sensed something akin to a sister's sympathy, some vague and indefinable thought in her, too big for her to grasp.

He never felt it again.

The serious sweet mood vanished.
"Hot dog! I've a brother with the _Croix de Guerre_.

I'll swell up over that.

I'll crow over some of these Janes." Thus she talked on while eating her supper.