She was admitting to her consciousness a jealousy of anything comparable to wheat.

And suddenly she confessed that her natural love for it had been augmented by a subtle growing sentiment.

Not sentiment about the war or the need of the Allies or meaning of the staff of life.

She had sensed young Dorn's passion for wheat and it had made a difference to her.
"No use lying to myself!" she soliloquized.

"I think of him!..